The First Stone
by AnneM.Oliver
Summary: Draco & Hermione, married to others, work together & travel back in time using an amulet called The First Stone to change what they thought were problems with their marriages. Instead, they discover Tom Riddle, James & Lilly Potter, & lives built on lies.
1. Chapter 1

**All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling and I make no money from the writing or publishing of this story.**

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**The First Stone**

**By**

**AnneM**

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**Chapter 1: Prologue: Sins of the Father**

There was an old saying that went, 'those without sin shall cast the first stone'. Hermione Granger would be the last person ever to cast a stone at anyone else. Sitting among the other broken souls in this ramshackle church, she spied a small pebble littering the floor by the pew in which she sat, and she moved it with the toe of her shoe. The stone made her think of the heavy stone she wore around her neck, like an anchor, weighing her down, drowning her, causing her pain more and more each day. Moving the stone around on the ground, her hand went absentmindedly to the one she wore around her neck. She fingered one as she pushed the other around with her foot.

The wind drifted in through the openings of the rafters, diffusing the sounds of the people in the congregation. Knowing no one would notice, Hermione leaned down, picked the smooth stone up with her hand, and rubbed it with her thumb. She felt numb. The stone felt cold.

She thought of another parable, one of someone walking along with a pebble in their shoe, but they didn't feel the pain because someone walked beside them, bearing all of the weight. While sitting in this decrepit church, with this motley crew, she slipped the pebble in her shoe and let the sharp side of the stone cut its jagged edge into the tender part of her sole. Or was that her soul? It didn't matter. She would feel the pain of the pebble acutely, on her own, because there was no one walking by her side. What's more, she wanted to feel the pain.

The man in the front of the church concluded with a prayer. Hermione bowed her head out of respect, but nothing more. When almost everyone had stood to leave, Hermione finally stood. She winced when she took the first step with the stone in her shoe. Damn, that hurt. She caught the attention of the man in the front with a slight nod. He nodded in return, finished talking with one of his parishioners, and then started toward her.

Reaching her in three strides, he asked, "Are you Miss Granger?"

It had been a while since anyone had called her that. It felt strange, foreign. She had been Mrs. Weasley for a very long time. She nodded a polite response even as the man asked, "How did you like the service?"

"It was fine," she lied. In truth, she hardly paid any attention to any of it. When she was little, she used to go to church with a book in her pocket. She would pull it out, place it inside a hymnal, and read. When everyone stood to pray or sing, her mother would drag her up with a pull to her dress. Hermione would stop reading long enough to sing. That was always her favourite part of church, the singing. "I liked the music," she continued.

He smiled. "Yes, not much of the church survived the fire, but the old pipe organ wasn't harmed in the least," the man said proudly. "Tell me, Miss Granger, what can I do for you today?"

"Wait a moment, I seem to have a rock in my shoe," Hermione begged. She placed a hand on the back of one of the pews, kicked off her shoe, and then lifted it to remove the rock. She didn't need to have a rock in her shoe to remind her to feel pain. She felt pain every day. And suffering was highly overrated, anyway.

After removing the stone from her shoe, she reached inside her bag and removed a photograph of a man. "Have you ever seen this man at any of your church services? He goes by the name of David Moore, but that's an alias."

The minister took the photo from her, shook his head, and said, "Yes, that man came to several of our gatherings. He never came to a Sunday service, during the day, but he came to several of our evening functions, as well as a few of the meetings we had here, Alcoholics Anonymous, etc. I have to admit, he was a bit different."

"Different how?" she asked.

"Profoundly sad," he answered. "He seemed to have suffered a lot in his life. He seemed lost and forlorn."

He motioned toward the front pew and sat down before she did. She sat beside him. "Miss Granger, you're not with the police, are you?"

She stared at him for a few moments, trying to phrase her words carefully in her mind. When she asked to talk to him yesterday, he suggested that she come to their Sunday service, and then he would answer her questions. She placed the photograph back in her satchel and decided not to lie to a man of the cloth. "No, I'm not. I'm a witch. This man is a wizard. I'm looking for him, but no, I'm not with the police."

The minister smiled. "A witch?"

"Yes, as in magic, you know?" she said warily.

He smiled wider. "I see." He stood up. "Perhaps you could use some of your magic and put a roof back on this place? We've not raised enough money to replace the losses we incurred due to the fire last month." He laughed. "A witch. That's a new one. Miss Granger, if you need psychiatric help, I know several people who might help you."

She stood up and said, "Forgive me, Father, but you aren't fit to judge me, and I don't need any help. There's nothing wrong with me." She handed him a card with her name and cell phone number on it and said, "And if you hear from this man, or see him at all, please call me. Please. Believe me, he's not what he appears. He's also very dangerous, and not to be trusted."

Hermione started toward the opening, which was at one time the doors of the church, but due to the damage from the fire, was now just a large opening, as one of the doors was gone completely and the other one was propped against the wall. She spied the one old church door lying on its side by the opening, raised her wand, and with a flick of her wrist, the door was once again attached to the frame.

She heard the man behind her gasp. She turned to face him and said, "Have a little faith, Father." She walked down the stone steps and wrapped her arms around herself tightly. She looked both ways down the deserted lane. She was about to Disapparate away when she felt someone 'watching' her. She decided to walk toward the woods, instead of toward the road.

She knew she was being followed. Good thing she removed the stone from her shoe…if she need to run away quickly, she could. She pulled out her wand and spun around to face her unknown enemy.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, her wand pointed under the man's chin.

"I have to ask you the same thing," he said. He knocked her wand arm away from him and then grabbed the end of it in one quick swipe. "You know you're going against a direct order from the Ministry coming here, don't you?"

She smiled. "When do you care about orders from the Ministry?"

"I could give a shite about the Ministry," he laughed. "But I have a vested interest in you, Hermione."

"Not anymore, Ron," she said. "Please, leave me alone." She wrenched her wand from his tight grip and started out of the copse of trees. He spun her around.

"I can't leave you alone. I know what you're suffering. I'm suffering, too, Hermione. You aren't the only one who lost someone. I'm in pain, too!" he spat.

It took her several moments to compose herself, and then she said, "If I could erase your pain, I would. If I could erase your memory, I'd do that, too. If I could turn back time…" and she stopped. "Wait. I can turn back time. That's it, Ron. Why didn't I think of it before? That's it."

"What are you blabbering about?" he asked, confused.

"I have one chance to make this right. I can turn back time. I go can back and right my wrongs. Stop my sins."

"Sins?" he said with a hitch of a laugh. "What sins have you ever committed, Hermione? I'm the one that broke our marriage vows! I'm the reason our daughter is dead! Seriously, what are trying to say?"

"Only this," she started softly, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, "Those without sin may cast the first stone. I want to be the one to cast the first stone, so in order to do that, I have to stop my sin. I have to go back."

"Back?" He was beginning to understand. He grabbed her wrist. "NO!" he barked. "I won't let you! What happened wasn't a sin! It wasn't a mistake! I won't let you go back and right it, and I don't know how you think you're going to do it anyway!"

She looked down at his wrist on her hand. "Let me worry about that. Let go of my wrist, Ron. I have to go." She opened the collar of her coat, and pulled out a chain that was hiding under her blouse and jumper. On the end of the chain was an amulet. Grasping it in her fist, she closed her eyes, said the silent incantation, and just like that she was gone. She was gone and her ex-husband was all alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 2: The Path of Righteousness was Never Straight**

_She stood alone, in a void, unable to go farther, unable to go back. Clutching the ruby amulet in her hand, the choice was already made, long before she made it._

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One Year Ago:

"Mum, have you seen my red scarf?" A gangly teenage girl ran past Hermione as she walked through the foyer toward the stairs. The girl had deep red hair, long and curly, which flew behind her when she ran up the stairs.

"I think I put it in your closet, where it belongs," Hermione said wearily. Her daughter, Rose, sixteen years old, ran back down the stairs, red scarf firmly in her grasp, and almost knocked her mother down the stairs in the process. "Rose, please!" Hermione sighed and stopped walking up the stairs. She sat on one of the stairs and watched as the whirlwind, aka Rose Beatrice Weasley, ran from the living room back to the foyer, then back up the stairs.

Ron walked in the front door. "Is she ready? We're going to miss the train."

"She's running around like a mad woman," Hermione explained. "Is Hugo in the car?"

"Yep," Ron exclaimed. He walked up several steps and placed a hand on Hermione's stomach. "Does this one feel like a boy?"

"It feels like an elephant, Ron," Hermione laboured, pushing Ron's hand off her ever-expanding stomach. Rose started back down the stairs. Hermione looked up at her and asked, "Are you ready? You're going to miss the train for Hogwarts."

"All set," Rose exclaimed. "I'm so excited this year!" She leaned over on her way down the stairs, kissed her mother's head, and rushed out the door. Ron laughed.

He looked back up at Hermione, sitting halfway up the stairs, and he quizzed, "Are you still set on staying behind, even though it's tradition that we meet Harry and Ginny and see the kids off every year?"

"Ron…" she began, not wanting to explain again. "I'm not feeling well," she lied. The truth was she didn't want to go. She wanted to be alone.

He shrugged, winked at her and said, "I'll be late tonight. I'm going to the Burrow after I drop the kids off at the station. I'll see you later. Don't wait up, since I'll be late."

As her husband's figure retreated, Hermione said, "Tell the kids I love them." He was already gone. She stood up and watched out the front door as the car drove away from the house. Rose was going to be in sixth year and Hugo was in fourth. Her children were growing up. She thought she was finally going to have some time for herself. She looked down at her belly and said, "Fate had other plans, huh?" She slammed the door shut with a resounding thud.

She hadn't planned to get pregnant again at thirty-eight. She didn't want more children. She loved her children dearly, but she had been looking forward to the day when she could live for herself.

She was looking for the day when she could leave her husband.

Now she would be stuck with him for at least another eighteen years. She felt a weight descend upon her chest, a tear form on her cheek, and just as she was about to give in to the tears, the doorbell rang. She almost let it ring, but it could be Ron. It would be just like him to have forgotten something, like his brain, and to ring the bell instead of opening the door with his key, or heaven forbid, his wand.

She walked with a slow gait back toward the door. She pulled aside the small covering over the peephole. The sight of the man on the other side caused her to pause. Why was HE here, of all people? She let the little covering over the peephole slide back into place, scraping against the door. Opening the door a crack, she peered outside.

"What?"

"Nice to see you, too, Granger," Draco Malfoy said with a bored tone. He leaned his long body against the doorframe, placing his foot with its shiny black shoe inside the door as he did.

"Really?" she asked, incredulously, pointing down at his foot. "Do you think your foot in the door will gain you entry? I have my wand. I'll hex your foot off if I want to, now what do you want?"

"Where's your husband?" he asked briskly.

"He just took the children off to catch the train to Hogwarts. Shouldn't you be taking Scorpius there today?" Hermione opened the door wider. Draco looked at her pregnant stomach, made a disgusted noise, and then back up at her face.

"You're letting him breed you again?" he asked.

"Stop being an arse," she leveled. "And I asked you a question. Your son. Why aren't you taking him to school today?"

"Why aren't you with the husband and kiddies yourself, Granger?" He slammed the door closed and walked into the foyer of her old, Victorian home.

"Do come in," she said sarcastically. "And its Weasley now," she corrected. "Ron took the kiddies without me. I wasn't feeling very well," she lied.

"Yes well, my son is sixteen. He doesn't need his old man to hold his hand at the station these days, Granger," he explained. He walked right into her home and began to look at things intently.

Under her breath, she said again, "It's Weasley now, actually, and has been for a long time, as you well know," but then she stopped talking when she noticed that he picked up a picture from the hall table by the stairs. It was a picture of her children.

"Your daughter looks like you, thank Merlin," Draco accused. "Scorpius said she's a pretty little thing and smart as can be." He continued further into the foyer. He looked at a painting that was hanging on the wall by the living room entry. "This is good," he clipped. "Who's the artist?"

"I am," she said unabashed. He turned to stare at her.

"Really?" He seemed genuinely shocked. "Huh." He turned back to the painting. "I never would have thought that you had an artistic bone in your body."

She was going to say something scathing as a reply, but decided against it. Truthfully, she never considered herself very artistic either. She usually believed in science and structure over poetry and art. "It's a new hobby of mine," she commented.

She came to stand beside him. Their shoulders touched. Hermione radiated warmth. Draco craved warmth. He had been cold for so long. "It shouldn't just be a hobby. You're very good." He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaled deeply, and said, "I'm a sick son of a bitch. I shouldn't have come here today, especially, well," he turned back and pointed at her stomach.

He stormed toward the door, threw it open to leave.

"Malfoy!" she shouted, to stop his retreat. He stopped, and with his back still to her she asked, "Please, why did you come here?"

Without turning to face her he said, "Your husband and my wife are having an affair." When he turned to face her, she was facing away from him. Her hand was on the scrolled balustrade at the bottom of the stairs. She clutched it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She felt overwhelmed, lightheaded. She started to swoon.

The next thing she knew she was on the sofa in her living room. Draco Malfoy was walking toward her with a wet rag in his hand. He placed it over her forehead. She tried to sit up, but he urged her back down. "Stay down," he ordered. He kept his hand on the cloth, on her forehead. She took the cloth from his hand, batting his hand away. Sitting up, she stared at him, numbly.

"Repeat that again."

"Stay down," he said, obtusely.

She threw the wet cloth at his chest. He recoiled; the cloth hit his dark blue button up and then landed on the floor. He bent down to pick it up and tossed it toward a planter by the fireplace. She placed her head in her hands. He sat beside her. "Did you know?" he asked.

She shook her head no.

"Gee, Granger, I'm sorry, really. I shouldn't have let it out like that."

"It's Weasley," she repeated, though she lacked the conviction this time. "I think I suspected something was going on, and have for a long time, but I had no clue with whom." She looked up at the ceiling. The morning sun was coming in the front window, shafts of light broke off into pieces as it played around the lead glass of the windowpane. She stared at the uneven squares on the ceiling until her vision blurred.

He reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out a black, velvet pouch, and emptied its contents on her lap. She looked down slowly. Fingering the strange looking necklace, she held it up. The sunlight bounced off the large, ruby in the middle, prisms of light shifting around the room. She sat at attention when realization hit her like a lead weight.

"Where did you get this?"

"I think you know where," he said. "And I know you know what it is. My question for you today is - can we use it? Can we use it to change things?"

"What do you want to change, Malfoy?" she asked, her voice raised an octave when she stood with the heavy amulet still clutched in her hand. She threw the precious antiquity at him. Unlike the wet cloth, which merely grazed his shirt before slipping on the floor, the heavy artifact hit him square on the chest, causing him to wince in pain.

"Damn, Granger, that hurt like hell!"

"IT'S WEASLEY YOU BASTARD!" She shook all over in fury. He stood. He let the amulet fall to the carpeting.

"Fine, Mrs. Weasley, whatever, do you think we can use this and change the course of things!"

"Even if I believed you, which I'm not sure that I do, no, I don't think we can use something as powerful as The First Stone to change something like my husband's supposed infidelity with your wife!" She sunk back on the sofa, hung her head, and rubbed her face with her hands.

Sitting beside her slowly, he said, "I'm not lying. I have proof, if you want it."

She shook her head some more. "I don't need proof. Hell, I believe you." Furthermore, she did. She hated that she did, but she did. She looked at the precious piece of their magical history lying on her floor and asked, "How did you come to have something so valuable and rare?"

He shrugged for a moment. "I'm sure someone in my family stole it many eons ago," he said truthfully. "It's been in our family vault for years. It had a charm in place over it. It only appeared in its true form to my mother and me."

She sunk down to her knees on the floor. Picking the stone up by the heavy chain, she stared at it intently. "I've always wanted to see it in person. Tell me, Malfoy, why would you want to use it for this? You know everyone can only use it once within his or her lifetime. Why waste your one and only chance for this?"

He stood up, paced in front of her, and said, "Well, gee, Granger, perhaps because I love my wife and I would rather that she didn't sleep with your fucking husband!"

Hermione flinched slightly. How could Ron cheat on her, and with Astoria Malfoy of all people? He claimed to hate people like her. "You love your wife?" she asked softly, palming the heavy stone, placing her palm with the stone on her chest, closing her eyes. That was more than she could say in regards to her husband.

He sat on the couch near her. "No," he answered. "I…I just said that," he said sincerely. "But she's my wife, and I can't abide this, Granger, I can't."

"Once the magic of the stone is unleashed it can't be changed. And the course it sets isn't always what people expect," she said. "You know that better than anyone. You helped me research it, back when we were in school, remember?"

"Yeah," he recalled. "Sixth year, History of Magic, Professor Binns put you and I together on a project. Uncover the history of the myth of The First Stone. Fact or Fantasy. You were such a little twat, insisting that we study at all hours, when I frankly had better things to do that year."

She wanted to say something crass like - 'What? . . . killing the headmaster' but she kept quiet. "I remember when we were done with our research; you were amazed by its proposed powers."

He slid down on the floor beside her. He reached over for the stone. His fingers grazed hers. He placed it back in the velvet pouch and put it in his pocket. "I wanted to use it that year, but I didn't know how. There were so many things I wanted to change, but I knew, from our research, that if I didn't use it just right, pick the right thing to change, that we could make everything worse."

"I wanted to find it the year Harry, Ron and I searched for the Horcruxes," she admitted.

"Yeah? Why?" He let his long legs go out in front of him and crossed them at the feet.

"I thought I could use it to go back and kill Voldemort when he was still Tom Riddle, but then I realized that might change things too much. Harry Potter might not be who he was. Who knows, his mum and dad might not have met and married, or whatever, or maybe he wouldn't have been the boy that he was meant to be. You're right, there were just too many variances, too many 'what ifs' and the magic of the stone is permanent. Also, since it could only be used once per each person's lifetime, as long as they are in possession of the stone, I didn't want to waste it."

He laughed. He stood up, looked down at her and said, "Plus, you didn't have the ruddy stone anyway, so using it was a pipe dream for you, in other words, a moot point. It's not for me. I have it. I always did. My own father didn't know we had it. It was one secret my mother never shared with him, thank goodness."

She struggled to stand. It wasn't easy, being eight months pregnant. He reached his hand down to her. She looked up in his eyes first, and then gave him her hand. He still had to use both hands to lift her up. "You're the size of a hippogriff," he teased. In truth, he thought she looked lovely. He had always heard that pregnant woman glowed when they were pregnant, and Hermione was glowing. His wife, having only been pregnant once, and hating every second of it, look nauseated the entire time she was pregnant with their son.

She walked from the living room. He was confused. He heard her voice from another room as she said, "Are you going to follow me, or what?"

He found her in a room full of books. Now here was the Hermione Granger, or Weasley if she'd rather, in which he was familiar. She was reaching up for a large, ancient looking tome. He sighed in disgust, and pushed her from the shelf, reached for the book in her place, and then handed it to her.

She mumbled a small thank-you, opened the book on her desk, and when he started to ask her what she was doing, she had the gall to say, "Sh…I'm reading."

He glared at her, and just at the moment when he was about to level an insult her way, she closed the book and said, "Right, here's the thing; we can't waste such an important piece of magic as The First Stone to keep our spouses from cheating on us. We just can't. It would be sacrilegious, or something. However, what we can do is to see what might have happened if we had used it previously, as we mentioned. If we find out that things wouldn't have changed for the better, if we had used it before, I might have a suggestion of what we can do with the stone today. There might be a way to use it in the past, that will change this particular bit of the future, anyway."

He waited a moment. "How do you propose we find out if we should have used the stone before, when we were younger?"

"There's a bit of magic in regards to this stone that I never even shared with you, even when we were doing our research, Malfoy," she admitted. "After all, I was fairly certain you were a Death Eater back then. You always acted a bit too eager about the stone, and you seemed to be a bit too knowledgeable in regards to how it looked, even though you had supposedly only seen it in painting in books. I suspected you had it, or at the very least, that you knew where it was."

"You sneak," he accused. "Fine, amaze me with your hidden knowledge, Granger."

She was going to correct him again, and tell him, "Weasley," but instead, she said, "Come here, Malfoy. Let me show you what I mean."


	3. Chapter 3

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 3: Turn the Other Cheek and Turn the Clock Back **

_There was no way to go back now, and no way to go forward, either. There was nothing to do but close her eyes and fade into nothingness._

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Hermione felt as if she was back in her element. There was nothing she loved more than unscrambling a good mystery, solving a difficult puzzle, or unraveling the threads that connected history to the present.

She walked to her library and reached up for a large tome on the second to top shelf. She heard Malfoy sigh from behind her. He pushed her gently to the side and reached for the book in her place, then handed it to her.

She mumbled a small thank-you, opened the book on her desk, and when he started to ask her what she was doing, she had the gall to say, "Sh…I'm reading."

"Right, here's the thing; we can't waste such an important piece of magic as The First Stone to keep our spouses from cheating on us. We just can't. It would be sacrilegious, or something. However, what we can do is to see what might have happened if we had used it previously, as we mentioned. If we find out that things wouldn't have changed for the better, if we had used it before, I might have a suggestion of what we can do with the stone today. There might be a way to use it in the past that will change this particular bit of the future, anyway."

He waited a moment. "How do you propose we find out if we should have used the stone before, when we were younger?"

"There's a bit of magic in regards to this stone that I never even shared with you, even when we were doing our research, Malfoy. After all, I was fairly certain you were a Death Eater back then. You always acted a bit too eager about the stone, and you seemed to be a bit too knowledgeable in regards to how it looked, even though you had supposedly only seen it in painting in books. I suspected you had it, or at the very least, that you knew where it was."

"You sneak," he accused. "Fine, amaze me with your hidden knowledge, Granger."

She placed the book on her large desk, opened it to the right place, sat down in a chair and urged, "Come here, Malfoy. Let me show you what I mean." He stood behind her. She felt his warm breath on her shoulder. She pointed at a passage in the book. "Here in this book, Magical Artifacts and Their Purposed Uses, it clearly tells us that The First Stone was supposedly made by Rowena Ravenclaw, who wanted to give it her good friend, Helga Hufflepuff, upon the eve of her wedding. She wasn't going to tell Helga that the stone was magical, and that it had the ability to turn back time. The reason was because she felt Helga was making a mistake by marrying the wrong man, and she wanted to give her friend a chance to escape that marriage, if she so desired."

"Yes, Granger, I know," Draco said, acting bored. "I did help you with the research, you know."

She gave him a disdainful look and said, "Just pay attention. Salazar Slytherin found out about the power of the stone, and he was afraid of what Rowena might do with it, so he placed a curse upon it, so that whoever was the possessor of the stone at the time could only change the course of history, or go back in time, only once. That means each person who is considered the owner of the stone at the time can only use it once a lifetime."

He glared at her. Seconds past. He bellowed, "Get on with the part I don't know!"

"FINE!" She closed the heavy book and walked over to a shelf in the corner. She lifted a small cedar box from a middle shelf. She brought it over to the desk, placed it on top of the book, and tapped it with her wand. An ancient looking text, engraved on the outside with words that seemed foreign, lay inside the box. Hermione lifted the small, black volume from the box and opened it reverently.

"This was given to me by Professor Lupin, who got it from Sirius Black, your mother's cousin," she proclaimed. "Remus told me that it was in Sirius' family forever. The book was made to accompany the stone. Sirius' family must have gotten the book, and your mother's family must have gotten the stone."

Now Draco seemed interested. She opened the cover. The pages were thick. They appeared to be made of calfskin, more than from parchment. The text looked to be hand written. There was vellum looking onionskin between each page. She gingerly opened the book to the middle and said, "Read this passage here."

Draco leaned over the book. He was afraid to touch it, so he placed a hand on each side of the small tome. His right arm was touching her left shoulder as he leaned forward to read. When he finished, he stood up and glared at her, perplexed. "This doesn't tell me anything I don't already know. It says that it can only be used once by whoever is the possessor of the stone. I already know that."

She leaned back, sighed, placed her hands on her stomach and said, "Keep reading, Malfoy."

He made a funny face to her, but read onward. He had to turn the page of the fragile looking book. He did so carefully. What he read on the next page confused him. He read aloud, "Whoever so possesses The First Stone, and has not thereby already made use of it, can go back in time to see the path that the stone has already sowed, by all those who have already wielded its power. If the possessor discovers that the way is not straight, but crooked and fraught with wrong, it shall be made right by the possessor, who then forfeits his chance for selflessness. This may be done once and only once." He looked up from the text, sat on the desk, and with his usual eloquence, said, "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It's Salazar's safeguard," she explained. "He feared that Rowena might use The First Stone to change things for her benefit, not caring if Helga was happy with her choices, or even if they were for the benefit of mankind. He placed the safeguard on it, that whoever is in possession of the stone can go back, once within the lifetime of the stone, and correct one thing that someone changed."

"Why?" he asked.

She shook her head and said, "Don't you see, Malfoy? Someone could use the stone for selfish reasons, and change more than their own past or history. They could change the past or history of humankind. With this safeguard on it, that could never happen. If someone tried to use it for very selfish reasons, this little safeguard lets the new owner go back and change things back! I mean, I don't think you can undo the thing the person in the past did, but you can right the wrong, so to speak, instead of using it for yourself."

"So that means…" Draco began, thinking aloud, while walking around her library, "yes, yes, I think I see." He looked at her. "For instance, we already know that if I had already used it once in my life, to go back to change something, say to change my socks one day when they were dirty, (She laughed) so I can't use it again, therefore, I would have to give it to you, as I tried to do when I first got here, to use instead."

"Yes, as you said, this is something we already know. Wait," she started, "you did place it in my lap. Were you trying to get me to be the one that used it? Have you already used it once? Oh my golly, what did you already change? Did you go bald early in your life, and change that, or something?" She laughed and snorted.

He smirked at her. "You are not funny at all. Yes, I used it once, and you don't need to know the how, when or why. We already know that means I can't use it again. But, what you're saying is, that if what I used it for was something selfish, and self satisfying…"

She interrupted by saying, "Like a treatment for baldness."

"I'm not bald! Look at this hair, Granger!"

"Some people thought you'd have a receding hairline by now, that's all I'm saying, and you don't," she teased.

He glared at her for the hundredth time. This time, while giving her the best look of utter disdain that he could, he also took the time really to look at her. She was still very attractive. Speaking of hair, hers was still long, still curly, still rich and brown. He wanted to reach out and touch it. She still had a splattering of freckles on her face. She had very few lines, if any, on her face. Her beauty was timeless. In fact, she was prettier now that she was older.

He shook his head and said, "Where was I?"

"You were giving me a dirty look because I was talking about your lack of hair," she goaded. He placed a hand over her mouth by leaning over the top of the desk. She was still in the chair. He could tell she was smiling under his hand. He removed his hand slowly.

"Right," he said, somewhat uncomfortable suddenly. He stood up again and said, "So, if I'm reading this right, if I give this to you, you have the right to either change the course of something, as is within the power of The First Stone, or you can go back in time and change something that I changed, since I'm the one that had it before you."

"Noooo," she started slowly. She knocked on the side of Draco's head with her fist and said, "Knock, knock, is Draco's brain home? After you gave it to me, which by the way, you shouldn't have, seeing how I haven't given you anything, but after you gave it to me, I can now either, A.) Use it for something worthwhile or B.) Go back and right a previous wrong in the course of history, or in the words of the book, during the path of the stone. I wouldn't have to fix your mistake. I might fix the mistake your great-great-great grandfather made. I might fix the mistake your mother made, when she decided to forgo birth control."

He knew if he gave her even one more look of scorn it would be meaningless, but he wanted to do it so badly. Instead, he shook his head, still slightly confused. "Okay." He sat back on the desk again, right in front of her. He rubbed his eyes. "So who cares what people in the past changed? The things would already be changed, and we wouldn't be the wiser. If we changed things back the way they were in the past, we might make things ten times worst in the present." He shrugged. "I say, what we don't know won't hurt us. I say, who cares if someone used it for something selfish in the past. So what? We have no way of knowing what they used it for, and no way of changing things back to the way they should have been, so let's get on with the present."

He pulled the heavy velvet pouch from his trouser pocket. "Here, I freely give you this priceless antiquity. Now, go back in time and do something to keep your husband at home, where he belongs."

She frowned at him. She stood up, pushed his hand with the pouch away from her and said, "How do you know that it's my fault that he strayed. It might be a shortcoming that he has. And you know, those without sin shouldn't cast the first stone, so to speak, so why blame me, when you aren't blameless. Why don't you do something to keep your wife at home?"

He stood up, stomped his foot as if he was a two year old, instead of a thirty-eight year old, and screamed, "You're so frustrating! Here, just take the fucking stone. I'm giving it to you! It's yours now!" He took her hand and placed the bag in her palm. Then he moved away from her quickly, as if she had burned him or something.

She walked over to him, poked him in the chest, and said, "And you're not getting the point of this safeguard, Malfoy! We do have a way to check out the different ways the stone was used in the past. There's a simple spell we can use. That's one of the things I kept from you. I don't know exactly how it works, but I suspect it's like a Pensieve, and we would be able to observe the things in the past. If I find something more worthy of my one and only use of this stone, I'm certainly not going to waste it on keeping our spouses faithful. I might want to right a wrong from the past."

He held out his hand. "Fine, give it back to me. I don't want you to have it any longer. I'll have someone else use it."

"No," she barked. She tore the amulet out of the pouch and placed it around her neck. "You gave it to me, it's mine now and I'll use it as I see fit!"

"You bitch!" he accused, pointing his finger at her.

"Oh, do shut up," she countered. "Do you want to go back and see the path of the stone or not?" She walked back toward the desk, opened the fragile old book and said, "The incantation is here somewhere. Here it is. Hold my hand, and perhaps we'll be able to see the stone's history together."

"You're daft!" he shouted. "How do we know we won't get sucked into that old book, or into the amulet, or into the past? How do we know we won't be gone forever! If you haven't noticed, you're about ready to beach that whale in your stomach, Granger, and in the words of a great American film, _I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies_."

Now she glared at him. Then she laughed. She reached out, grabbed his hand, and said, "Leave everything to me. I wouldn't use the spell if I thought we would get stuck in the past, Malfoy, you silly goose."

"Watch your language, Granger," he recoiled in fake shock, repeating, "Silly goose, indeed," as he looked down at her hand holding his. She stuck the book in his pocket with her free hand. He slapped her hand away with his free hand and said, "Fresh." He stuffed it the rest of the way in his pocket.

She made sure she had the amulet around her neck. She looked at him and said, "Ready, Malfoy?"

He merely sighed.

She closed her eyes, said the words from the incantation, and then she felt as if she was sucked into a vacuum, a void, a sea of nothingness. She opened her eyes, and suddenly, she was sitting in the great hall at Hogwarts. She looked down. She was in a uniform, though it was vastly different from the ones she wore when she went there.

She looked all around her. She didn't see Draco anywhere. She picked up a silver chalice and looked at her reflection. She wasn't Hermione Granger any longer. She didn't recognize the face that looked back at her. The only thing familiar about the distorted image in the cup was the red ruby amulet around her neck.

She brought her fingers up to the necklace and lowered her cup. She looked around her again. She was sitting among unfamiliar faces, all in Gryffindor colours. That was one good thing.

A girl sitting beside her leaned over and said, "Harry, hey Harry."

Harry? Hermione looked over her shoulder. Was Harry here? The girl beside her pulled on her jumper sleeve and said, "Harriet Garrison, will you pay attention to me."

Hermione turned back to the young girl. "Are you speaking to me?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm speaking to my other best friend, Harry," the girl said, rolling her eyes. "Did you notice, he's staring at you again."

"Who?" Hermione asked, more confused than ever.

The girl nodded her head in the direction of the Slytherin table. Hermione looked up, and noticed a dark haired, good-looking boy staring at her. She looked behind her, then back at the boy. He stared right in her eyes. She refused to look away. He raised his glass toward her, smiled, and then took a drink, before he began to talk to his fellow Slytherins.

Hermione leaned over to the girl who had called her 'Harry' and asked, "Who is that boy?"

The girl looked at her perplexed and said, "Right, as if you don't know Tom Riddle."


	4. Chapter 4

**All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling **

**Chapter 4: Sins Once Sowed, are Apt to be Repeated **

* * *

_She felt enveloped in a fog, but she did nothing to embrace it, nothing to enhance it, she simply let it totally overcome her until she felt herself slipping away._

* * *

Hermione leaned toward the girl who'd called her 'Harry' and asked, "Who is that boy?"

The girl looked at her perplexed and said, "Right, as if you don't know Tom Riddle." Hermione looked back at the girl, eyes wide with shock. She wasn't sure why she felt surprised. Somehow, she knew the answer to her question before this girl confirmed everything. Hermione looked about the dining hall for Draco. Was he here? Would she recognize him, when she didn't even recognize the person from whose eyes she was staring?

Had something gone terribly wrong with the spell, or was this how things were meant to be? The weight of 'The First Stone' hung heavy around her neck. She fingered it lightly, while looking down at it and frowning. She glanced back toward Voldemort, carefully shielding her mind from his possible invasion, but he was now leaning toward a group of boys, speaking to them in certain whispers, apparently no longer interested in her.

She eyed the rest of his table and her gaze came to rest on a boy with curly brown hair. He was good looking, and seemed to be slightly younger than Tom Riddle, who Hermione just realized had the 'Head boy' emblem on his robe, meaning this was his seventh year. She also realized Riddle had a large signet ring on his hand, so he had already killed his father and grandparents. He must be 17 or 18 years old, making the year around 1944 or 1945.

The curly-haired boy continued to stare at Hermione, (or Harriet as it was) and then he motioned toward the doors with his head, got up from his seat, and walked carefully out the doors. Hermione knew the boy meant for her to follow. She didn't know who this boy was, or even who she was, but there was only one way to find out…she picked up her books, said goodbye to her friend, (whoever she was) and walked carefully, quietly, out the doors of the dining hall to meet the boy.

Tom Riddle watched her as she slipped out the door, a frown on his handsome face.

Spying once recognizable hallways, doors and floors with unfamiliar eyes left Hermione feeling odd and disorientated. A sensation of familiarity brushed along her nerves and sent shivers down her spine. If seeing Voldemort as Tom Riddle left her feeling as if she had been dipped into a vat of hot, boiling lava, at least the cool stone floor beneath her helped to center her a little bit.

The boy with the mass of curly hair walked up to her and he said, "Nice rock you have around your neck."

Was that what this was about, then? Was he sent out here by Riddle to question her about the stone? She forced herself not to look down at the amulet. Instead, she said, "Do I know you?"

"I hope so." He leaned lazily against a wall. "We've gone to school together for years."

Hermione almost felt as if she had made a mistake coming out here. Perhaps this boy was one of Riddle's early cronies, and the Head boy, who had also seemed to admire the necklace, HAD sent him out here. Did Riddle know what it meant…what it did… or worst of all that she was not whom she appeared to be?

The boy in front of her became distracted for a moment when the doors to the Great Hall opened and a slew of children ran past them. He moved a little, toward her, and she impulsively reached out to push him away. Smiling bitterly at her, he grabbed the sleeve of her blouse and pulled her around the corner.

Hermione reached frantically for a wand that wasn't there. Where did Harriet keep her wand?

Pushed against the wall of an adjoining hallway the boy loomed over her. He was tall. He had beautiful eyes, and he said, "Granger, it's me, you silly goose."

"Who?"

"You know who."

Hermione kept quiet even as the boy's hand moved from her shoulder toward the amulet. Before she could move away or question him further he grasped the heavy stone in his fist, his finger first brushing lightly over the tops of her breasts along the way.

He said, "I think you need to give the stone to me for save keeping. I saw the way Tom Riddle was staring at it."

Not yet trusting this 'stranger', she started to scream or protest, sucking in great gulps of air, when a single set of footsteps approached and caused her scream to suspend in her throat.

"What's going on here?" Tom Riddle asked as he rounded the corner. "What are you two doing?"

The other boy dropped the ruby from his hand. It seemed to hit her pounding heart with a thump. She imagined it moving slightly over each beat of her heart. The boy smiled lazily toward Tom, the older boy was slightly shorter than the curly-haired boy was, but not by much since they were both very tall, and he said, "Why do you want to know, Riddle? I'm just having a bit of fun here. Nothing for the Head boy to worry his head over, right?" He turned his attention to Hermione and smiled. "I was merely admiring this pretty little necklace, wasn't I?"

Was she meant to agree? She had hoped this was Draco inside Draco's grandfather or something. Although, didn't all Malfoy's have shocking blond hair and grey eyes?

"Back off, Black," Tom snapped. "She doesn't appear to want you to admire her necklace. Get fresh with me again, and I'll dock house points."

All Hermione thought was, 'Black'?

The other boy laughed and said, "Right, you'll dock points from your own house, because I'm caught in a hallway with a pretty girl."

Tom reached out his hand toward Hermione. "Come along, Harriet. We'll leave Black here to think about things."

Hermione looked from Tom's outstretched hand and then into the other boy's eyes. The other boy closed his eyes slowly, and almost willed her to go with the Head boy. He pulled a familiar, small, old black book from his pocket and said, "I'll just be over here reading while you go off with the Head boy, Harriet." He drew her name out slowly, as if it was the first time he had ever said it, after hearing Tom say it a moment ago.

Then she knew it was Draco.

Also, he had the book! This WAS Malfoy! Riddle had called him, 'Black'. Could this be another relative of Draco's? Was it his mother's father, or Sirius' grandfather? Sirius had the book when she was a girl, and she knew that Sirius' mother had married her own cousin, retaining the name 'Black', but she couldn't remember the man's first name. While racking her brain, she felt a hand on her arm.

She flinched and looked up at Tom Riddle. The muscles in his face seemed taut. She shielded her mind again, and decided to try to figure out just WHO Draco was later. Right now, she was going off with Tom Riddle apparently. She needed to find out why they had been brought back to this time, in any case.

Tom dropped one hand from her arm, placing both his hands behind his back as they started toward the dining hall. She sighed and said, "I'd like some fresh air."

"Certainly," he said, leading them with purposeful strides toward the doors. They walked side-by-side out the doors into the cold evening air. It was winter in this time. Hermione was instantly cold. Tom noticed her body as it shivered and removed his jacket to place it around her shoulders.

Who knew the son of the Prince of Darkness could be so chivalrous?

She took a few steps farther toward the courtyard. He remained by her side. "What did Cygnus say to you that upset you? You acted as if you were about to scream when I rounded the corner," Tom asked.

Cygnus? Hermione had just remembered that Sirius' father's name was 'Orion', yet Tom called that boy 'Cygnus'. Was Cygnus the name of Narcissa's father?

"He didn't say anything," Hermione replied. She felt off kilter and confused.

Tom cleared his throat and said, "Best not to lie to me, Harriet."

Hermione turned on her heels and said, "I'm not lying!"

"I think you are, for you truly seem upset," Tom continued, "And he was touching that pretty little necklace around your neck. Was he threatening to take it from you, or something? Where did you get it, by the way? He's right. It's very pretty. It looks familiar. May I see it?" He held out his hand.

"He wasn't threatening me," she said, ignoring both the comments about the amulet and his outstretched hand, although her hand went up to grasp it tightly. She tucked it inside her red jumper.

Tom smiled. Hermione realized just how extremely handsome he was. Alluring even. Charismatic and charming.

"His cousin gave it to you, didn't he?" Tom persistent. "No need to confirm it, I know that he did. Perhaps Orion had no right to give it to you, and Cygnus was merely trying to get it back. Perhaps it's a priceless family heirloom. In fact, I'm certain of it. I've heard several of the Blacks speak of it before. The thing I don't know is how Orion gave it to you, since he graduated last year. Oh well, no bother. Why don't you give it to me, and I'll give it to Headmaster Dippet to keep safe, that way Cygnus won't bother you again."

"That's not necessary," Hermione answered. Orion and Cygnus were cousins. Everything was coming back to her. Orion was married to Walburga, and they were the parents of Sirius and Regulus. Trying hard to recall the massive Black family tree on the wall of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Hermione placed Cygnus in her mind. Walburga's brother. Narcissa Black's father. She was right…Draco was transported into the body of his grandfather, his maternal grandfather.

Still, who was she and why were they here at this point in time and how had Harriet gotten the necklace?

She wouldn't find any answers to the questions in her brain walking along the cold courtyard with a young Tom Riddle. She needed to find Draco and she needed to discover who she was and how she came to have the amulet and what purpose it served in this flashback. Fumbling for an excuse to make to him so that she could leave to go back inside the castle, he grabbed her hand, holding it tight, before words could form on her lips.

He stared down at her with liquid green eyes. "Harriet, you mustn't be afraid. I know that fool must have given you the stone. Just tell me how you came to have it. It's full of dark magic. I don't want you to get hurt." He looked around and forced her back against the stone wall of the castle. He loomed over her, and said, almost reluctantly, "You're so good, and you are messing with evil, dark things. I can stop all of this, if you wish. Tell me what you know about The First Stone, and then give it to me. Give it to me, Harriet." The last five words came out like a whispered plea.

Hermione could never show how much his words shocked her. HE KNEW what the amulet was! She tried to read his face, while schooling her features blank. "I don't know anything about dark magic or evil objects," she whispered, "and I'm certain that it's merely a necklace. Orion Black didn't give it to me. I'm not lying. Please, Tom," she offered, using the familiar, "you're the only one who's scaring me." It wasn't the truth and it wasn't a lie. The truth was somewhere in the middle.

Then he smiled. His black lashes closed over his green eyes for a moment, brushing his cheeks before his mouth turned up in the corners to form a smile. "I know you're lying to me, I just don't know why," he said, his lips so close to her cheek that every word was like a small kiss as each puff of air left his mouth. "I don't mean to scare you my dear, sweet Harriet, but Orion Black had no right to give that to you. He promised it to me. You don't know its powers. You must give it to me, and give it to me freely. I can't take it, or the power of the stone won't work. It will only work if it's given freely."

Now there was something she didn't know about the stone. Thank you Lord Voldemort!

He lifted his hand and touched her face. His finger drifted down her cheek slowly, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Give it to me, Harriet. Please," he repeated, seductively.

She felt powerless to resist him. She found that she wanted to do whatever he wanted her to do, even though she knew she shouldn't.

"Harry?" a voice from behind them said.

A fierce blush rose on Hermione's cheeks as she tried to push Tom Riddle away from her. He wouldn't move but a small fraction to her left, and he kept her gaze on her, not to the person behind them. Hermione looked over Tom's shoulder and saw the same young girl with the long black hair that was sitting beside her during dinner.

"Yes?" Hermione offered weakly. She was feeling strange. Out of sight of the other girl, Tom had reached down and was holding Hermione's hand. His thumb was slowly stroking across her palm. Her stomach flopped over and she felt dizzy at his nearness.

"Tell her to go away," he urged softly, for only her to hear. "You and I aren't finished here. Tell her that you'll be right in shortly." He smiled at her. His gentleness was astonishing, but she knew there was evilness lurking behind that beguiling smile. He wanted the amulet, that was all, and Hermione WAS NOT a young girl who was easily led astray by an evil, future Dark Lord.

His hand gripped hers tighter as she peered back around his shoulders. Standing next to the dark haired girl was the curly haired boy that she hoped was Draco. He had a frown on his face. He walked past Harriet's friend toward the pair in question. Sensing his approach, Tom dropped Hermione's hand and turned quickly to face him.

"Harriet, may I escort you to the library? I believe you wanted to study Ancient Runes tonight," Draco lied.

"Yes, thank you." Hermione slipped past Riddle and stepped around to Draco's other side.

The two boys merely stared at each other. Finally, Tom said, "Soon, Black, you will have to pick a side. You can't stay out of this forever. Your cousin Orion will regret crossing me, by the way."

"He's working at the Ministry now," Draco said. "He was offered a job right after graduation last year. I'll be sure to relay your message." He grabbed Tom's jacket from Hermione's shoulders, forced it into the other man's hand, and stalked away. Hermione followed, with the dark haired girl closely behind them.

Tom Riddle grimaced as he watched them all enter the castle.

Hermione turned to the other girl as soon as they reached the safety of the moving stairs and said, "Thank you for coming to look for me."

"What are best friends for?" she asked with a smile.

Hermione smiled back. She wished she knew her best friend's name. As if fate was granting her wish, a girl from an upper staircase called down, "Joyce, Harriet, are you both coming back to the tower?"

Hermione looked around for Draco, but he had slipped away. She shook her head toward 'Joyce' and said, "You go back. I need to go to the library."

"Okay, but stay clear of Riddle and Black," the other girl warned. "You don't want to get in the middle of their feud."

"Aren't they good friends?" Hermione inquired before she thought if she should.

Joyce looked at her strangely and said, "Good friends? Them? No, you know they aren't. Cygnus Black's nose is so high in the air, breathing only pureblood air, that even though most of the Slytherins consider Riddle their king, he, his brother, and his cousin know deep in their pureblood hearts that they're better than him. They believe in the same ideology as Riddle, but they practice what they preach, so even if Riddle does spout off claims of being a Slytherin heir, they think he's lower than them and all of their pureblooded family and friends. Oh, no offense to you and your pure blood, of course." The girl laughed.

Hermione let out a strangled chuckle. Harriet was a pureblood. Heavens. "No offense taken. I was just wondering your views on the subject. I think the same thing, by the way." She smiled at the girl and started toward the stairs that would take her to the library.

She entered the library and stopped cold. Everything was exactly the same. Odd. It had been twenty years since she had set foot inside the library at Hogwarts, yet this Hogwart's library was almost a quarter of a century before that, but it was still the same.

The same shelves.

The same looking books and large dusty tomes.

The same locked grid over the restricted section, which for some reason was standing wide open. She approached it cautiously and saw 'Cygnus' looming up ahead, in the warren of narrow shelves in the dark, classified section. She closed the gate behind her, locked it manually, and approached him.

"Cygnus?"

"And I guess you must be Harriet?" he asked in return.

"What's my last name?"

"How the hell would I know?" he said with a sly smile.

"I think that girl said it earlier but I can't recall it. Oh well, guess what?" she asked. "Harriet's a pureblood."

"Hmm," Draco drawled out. "What do you know? Granger's finally going to know what it feels like to be a pureblood." He walked a circle around her and added, "You know, I don't know if I can look at you like that."

Hermione frowned slightly and approached one of the long narrow windows that were set back in a windowsill of the restricted section. She approached the glass; the outside was pitch black now, and she peered at her reflection. Harriet was a pretty girl. She had dark auburn hair, which sat on her shoulders in waves, and piercing blue eyes.

"I'm pretty," she mumbled, correcting herself by saying, "I mean Harriet's a pretty little girl. Don't say bad things about her." She pulled back her hand and slapped him hard on the shoulder.

He winced slightly. "I merely meant it was disconcerting to look at you but not see you. I intend to remedy that," he replied. Without permission, he took a long wand out of his pocket, tapped her head, a bit harder than he had to, and said, _"Reflection Extracta."_

Hermione looked back in the window. She still saw Harriet. "What did you do? I must say, your charm work needs improvement, Malfoy, because I still look like Harriet."

"That's what you know, darling girl," he smiled. "To me, you look like the Hermione Granger that I knew and hated at that age."

"Let's be honest. You still know me and hate me," she laughed, her arms coming around to cross in front of her chest. "And what did the sixteen or seventeen year old Hermione Granger look like to you?"

"Bushy hair, bucked teeth, face only a scarboy and ginger-haired weasel could love," he mocked. In reality, he had always thought she was pretty. He thought she was prettier as the mature Hermione, but it was jarring to him to see her again so young and vibrant.

"Well, turn about is fair play," she mumbled, grabbing the wand from his hand and mumbling the same spell. To her, his image became that of the seventeen year old Draco Malfoy. She smiled. "You were a handsome sort back then. You had a nice full head of hair, too," she joked, kidding him about his hair again.

"I still do!" he hissed.

"Whatever," she returned. "I wonder why we came back to this time?" Hermione began to walk farther into the darkest corner of the restricted section. "I should have given the spell more thought before I sent us back, I guess."

"You think?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Fine, I should have," she conceded. "It's too late now. Not figuratively, since we know the spell to go back if we want, but we're here, so we might as well discover what the stone was used for in this time. If it was something inconsequential, it might merit changing. I know one thing, Riddle knows about the stone and he wants it. He also told me something I didn't know about it. He said it had to be given freely to another person for the magic to work. It can't be taken."

"Yeah, I knew that," Draco dismissed.

Hermione gave him a disgusted look and said, "You could have shared that information with me many years ago!"

"Like you shared the information that you found in the book with me?" he countered. He leaned against the wall and said, "I found out something sort of interesting about this book while you were out on your date with the Dark Lord."

"It certainly wasn't a date!" she argued. "And I know that book front to back. I've read it many times. You can't possibly tell me something about it I don't know."

Draco leaned forward and said, "You want to make a bet? There's a little charm on this book that is only accessible to those with Black blood in them, ergo, me, Miss 'Thinks She Knows Everything', so I got to read a secret section that you've probably never even seen before. Does that 'power of three' mean anything to you?"

"The what?" she asked.

He poked her chest with the spine of the book with each word and said, "The. Power. Of. Three. Sweetheart."


	5. Chapter 5

**All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling **

**Chapter 5: Beware of False Prophets**

* * *

_Slipping into nothingness, numbness filled each of her senses. An intense flash of uncertainly followed the numbness. Was this what it was like to be dead? Void of feeling, void of pain, yet full of awareness? As that thought crowded her brain, she heard a voice say, "You must not die. I won't let you die." So this wasn't quite death after all._

* * *

Draco smirked at Hermione with his all too familiar looking smirk and said, "There's a little charm on this book that is only accessible to those with Black blood in them, ergo, me, Miss 'Thinks She Knows Everything', so I got to read a secret section that you've probably never even seen before. Does that 'power of three' mean anything to you?"

"The what?" she asked.

He poked her chest with the spine of the book with each word and said, "The. Power. Of. Three. Sweetheart."

She rubbed her chest where he had poked her with the book. "What are you going on about now, Malfoy?"

"According to this old book," he began, "that incantation you used can only take us as far back as the last three times the stone was used. Furthermore, oh _unenlightened one_, we were both a bit confused about the whole changing someone else's wish. We can't. Change something that's been done, I mean, or at least, not as easily as we thought."

Hermione moaned a bit, rubbed her hand over her face and mocked, "Power of three, oh _stupid one_. What does that have to do with the power of three?"

"Let me read it again and then I'll tell you, oh _bushy haired one_," he teased. He sat down on the windowsill and opened the book at a place in the back that had nothing but glyphs and markings. At least, that was the way it appeared to Hermione. He began to read, so she knew to him, the strange symbols appeared as words. She sat next to him on the cold stone windowsill.

He read silently. He heard her gentle breathing next to him. He felt the warmth of her body as it touched his. Her arm touched his arm. Her hip touched his hip. Her shoulder was next to his. He felt tingles shooting through every fiber of his being. Why was that?

He closed the book again and said, "Right. It's like this, _Granger oh Granger_. We can only see the path the stone made as far back as the last three uses. That's part ONE of the power of three. It was a protection placed on the stone by Gryffindor."

Hermione stood up and reached inside her sweater. She held the stone in her hand and said, "What did Godric Gryffindor have to do with the stone? Does that mean that all four of the founders had a hand in the magic of the stone?"

"Looks like at least three of the four founders had a hand in the magic of the stone, at the very least, Ravenclaw, who made it for Hufflepuff, Slytherin, who put the first charm on it, and then the ever meddlesome Gryffindor, who put these little protection spells on it. That's another part of the _Power of Three_. Three of the founders – three separate charms on the stone," Draco returned, tucking the book under his arm and reaching over with his hand to touch the heavy medallion in her hand.

His fingers skimmed her palm and she removed her hand suddenly. She felt heat flower in her lower abdomen from that innocent touch. He held the stone, aware that she moved quickly from his grasp. He placed the stone gently back to her chest. He kept his fingertips on it a bit longer than necessary. He knew he should let go immediately, but something deep down in his soul made him want to hold onto the stone, and her, as long as he could.

Draco observed, "No wonder the Dark Lord wanted the thing so much, if all four founders had something to do with it. Imagine if he had gotten a hold of it? Anyway, from what I can tell, Gryffindor wrote the book. Here's what I know from reading the secret part in the back and from what we knew from our research when we were young. Ravenclaw made the stone. She gave it to Hufflepuff and told her that she could use the stone to undo any one thing in her life. She also lied to Hufflepuff, because she told her that only the possessor of the stone could change something, and only in their own lifetime."

"And that was a lie?" Hermione asked, coming to sit next to him again.

"Yes, because the truth, as you read in the book when you were younger, and kept hidden from me by the way, was that Ravenclaw made it so that she could also go back and change something, if she wished. Slytherin became aware of this somehow, and place the charm on the stone that truly would only allow the possessor of the stone to go back and change any one thing in his or her own life, so Ravenclaw couldn't mess with Hufflepuff's life, since Ravenclaw wasn't the owner of the stone."

"Then, he placed another safeguard on it, making it so the possessor of the stone could either fix something in their own life, as intended, or instead they could undo something, right a wrong, change something that someone else did with the stone. I guess he did it so if Ravenclaw meddled too much in Hufflepuff's business, good old Salazar could go back and change things back."

Hermione looked at the ruby hanging around her neck again and said, "Yes. I know all of this, but I do wonder why he did it."

"Because he hated Ravenclaw, I assume. He didn't like that she was interfering with Hufflepuff's life or whatnot. Who knows? Who cares? It doesn't matter at this point, just pay attention to me," Draco drawled. "We already knew about that part anyway, from the main part of the book. That's not the secret part yet, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me sweetheart," Hermione huffed. "I find it slightly degrading.

"And slightly endearing, right?" he joked.

Hermione ignored him. In actuality, she did find it endearing, deep inside, and she found that fact slightly annoying. She reached across Draco for the book. Her arm rubbed across his chest.

He flinched slightly. He handed her the book and stood up. He felt a stirring of desire rise up when her arm brushed across his body. He had been attracted to Granger before, but not highly so. Something felt different now. There was something elemental about the desire he felt at the moment. It was intense, deep, and rooted deeply in his soul.

He moved away, snatched the book from her hands and placed it by her hip on the windowsill, cleared his throat, and said, "What we need to ask is, what good would come from going back and changing things in the past, and why mess with things like that? That's where Gryffindor, with his goody-two-shoes attitude and the secret passages in the book comes into play. Gryffindor made it so that the current possessor of the stone could only go back and see the last three paths the stone made."

"Likewise, he made it so that a single person couldn't change something from the past. They would have to change it with two others, two others who were also previous possessors of the stone, and only then could all three go back and change something. I guess it would keep one person from acting alone and doing something crazy. Something Voldemort like. Another little power of three."

Hermione shook her head. "Fine…three trips back to the past and only the last three, and if we want to change something it will take three previous owners of the stone to do it. Shouldn't there be one more condition if this power of three thingy is a rule, as you stated earlier." She picked the book up from its place on the sill beside her and walked up to him. Imitating him from before, she said, "THE. POWER. OF. THREE," each word coinciding with a 'poke' on his chest with the spine of the ancient book. She ending with, "Remember? You acted like it was something common, something I should have already known, even though I've never heard of it before now."

He took the book from her and moved his head back and forth slightly in a mocking manner. He reiterated. "Let's recap for the impaired, also known as Hermione Granger, aka, Harriet something or other, known to me as _sweetheart_, or sometimes, _oh irritating one_. The stone can only be given freely. I gave it to you. It can only be used once in each person's lifetime and I used it once before, hence the reason I gave it to you, because I can't use it again. You assumed the stone could be used two ways, right? Number one, it could be used to grant a wish or make something come true, or number two, it could right some massive wrong from the past. You, being the most irritating person in the world, chose to bring us back to said past to see if that was what you would rather do with your one and only use before using it, right?"

She nodded.

"You brought us back to the 1940's to Voldemort's time, so that must mean that someone used The First Stone for something here. It was used one other time, and then later by me and those are the last three uses. Those are the only three times we will get to see. You can undo something that someone has already used the stone for, or number two, use it to keep our cheating spouses from cheating on us."

"That's the long and short of it," she sighed.

"No, it's not." He took a step closer to her. "The," he said, taking another step closer. She turned her head slightly and looked at him wearily. "Power," he said with another step closer, this time coming up so close that he was an arm's length from her. "Of," he whispered, now so close that she backed against a shelf. The wood slat pressed against her bum, Draco pressed against her chest. "Three," he said so softly that she wouldn't have been able to hear him if he hadn't been right next to her, against her, his body pressed against hers.

Something kept her rooted to that spot even though every instinct told her to run away and keep running. Her breath was unsteady. Her knees were knocking. Her heart was beating swiftly.

From its place next to her head, his right hand left the shelf and cupped her cheek. She knew in her heart that he was going to kiss her, and she knew in her heart that she was going to let him. Deep down, she wanted him to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her and make her forget about everything that was wrong in her life.

But then they would be no better than their cheating spouses.

He bent his head to kiss her, his lips almost grazing hers, when she tucked her chin into her chest and she said, "No, Draco, it's wrong. It would make us no better than them. It would make this a fruitless trip. There would be no point in any of this."

She looked back up at him with her big eyes. "I don't want to be better than them," he said truthfully. "And who cares if there's a point to this. Besides, I'm not Draco right now. I'm Cygnus Black, and you're Harriet, something or other." He took several deep breaths, and she shivered, even though the hot air from his mouth hit her neck. "What the hell is your last name anyway?"

"I…I can't recall," she said, breathlessly. She placed her hands on his chest. "Tell me what the power of three means," she beseeched.

He placed his hands back on the shelves by her head, but kept his body pressed against hers. Now his lips were so close to the skin of her cheek that he could almost taste the salt of her skin. He answered, "There's one other way the stone can be used."

"How?" she asked on a sigh. He looked down at her and he sighed as well. He sighed because he wanted kiss her, but she wanted him to talk. He would settle for staring at her instead.

Harriet _'Whatever the hell her last name was' _eyes were green, but now that he had charmed the girl in front of him to look like the old Granger, the Granger from his past, the Granger he loved to hate and hated to love, the Granger from many of his teenage wet dreams, he realized that HER eyes were the most amazing shade of brown. He always thought brown was ordinary, plain, boring, but her eyes were amazing. Were they always this colour? A mix between toffee and chocolate. There were gold fleck that looked like sparks and the rims were surrounded by another layer of gold, as bright as the sun.

She had freckles across the bridge of her nose and some on her cheeks. She had a small, almost insignificant scar on her cheek that he had never noticed in his entire life, and he had known this woman almost his entire life. Of course, he was looking at the face of the younger Hermione Granger, but still, he should have noticed that scar before, even if it was the size of the head of a pin.

Hermione steeled herself against the intrusion of Draco Malfoy. He was so close! Why was he so close? And she had to crane her neck up to look at him, and yet this 'person' was charmed to look like the young Draco. How tall was the man? She would have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him…not that she was planning to kiss him or anything. She was aware her hands were on his chest. His hands were on the shelf by her head. His face was so close that she saw every pore on his skin.

He leaned forward, and his nose went to her jaw line and she swore that he inhaled deeply. What was going on here? What were they even talking about, anyway? Oh, yeah, the third way in which The First Stone could be used.

Hell, did it even matter? All she really cared about now was the fact that she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. As soon as she thought it, she mentally slapped her hand against her head. THIS WAS DRACO MALFOY and her husband was sleeping with his wife, furthermore, she had spent most of her life hating him. Hadn't she? Didn't she? What was she thinking? "Draco," she urged, "I believe I asked you for the third way in which the stone could be used, or the number three in your little tirade about the power of three."

Gee, his breath was still fanning her cheek and he was beginning to whisper in her ear. Did that mean he was finally going to answer her question, or finally kiss her?

"I can't say anymore tonight. We have company. Act as if you're rebuffing me," he requested. His hands went from the shelf to around her waist.

Her hands went from his chest to his shoulders. What did he say?

"Hermione, it's Riddle. Act as if you're pushing me away, now," he ground out softly between clenched teeth. Then, louder he said, "Just one kiss, sweetheart, and then I'll let you go."

She finally understood. "Get away from me, Black," she had the fortitude to utter. She clenched her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him away, even though she wanted to pull him closer.

Draco cursed Riddle on so many levels. Hell, he would probably have kissed Granger if the stupid 'Head boy' hadn't snuck into the restricted section. Right before he told Hermione to reject him, Draco heard the other boy's soft footsteps and the swishing of his robes and he knew deep in his heart it had to be him, and he was right.

"I would suggest you listen to her, Black," Riddle commented slowly, walking up behind them. "Get away from her so that I can tell you your punishment. I must say, this really isn't your night."

Draco leaned his body closer to Hermione rather than pushing away and mouthed the words, "The amulet. Hide it again." She reached between their bodies and put it back under her jumper. Draco remained up against her, looked over his shoulder and said, "I rather think I'm having a good night, Riddle, at least I was before you showed your ugly face."

"Being caught in the restricted section of the Library, making unwanted advances against another student, being out past curfew – you consider all of these good things do you?" Tom asked with a laugh. "Oh, and do get away from dear Harriet. I rather doubt she likes you imposing your person on her like that."

"Do you mind, Harriet?" Draco asked Hermione and then he winked so that only she could see. Actually, Hermione didn't mind. She assumed that Harriet probably would.

"Get away from me, Black," she ordered, pushing him with all her might. He moved away from her and she slipped away from the shelf.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Tom rattled on, "and sorry, Garrison, but I must take five from Gryffindor, as you're out past curfew, too."

"Ah, Garrison," Draco couldn't help but to say aloud. So that was her last name. Hermione looked relieved that Riddle had uttered her last name as well. She nodded and started past Draco and Riddle.

Tom reached out his hand and held her arm. He spoke to 'Draco' but he looked at 'Hermione' as he spoke. "You go on down to the dungeons, Black. We'll talk later. I want to talk to Harriet for a moment before I walk her up to her tower."

"Right," Draco laboured. "You make me leave, so that you can accost her. I don't think so. I think we should both walk her up to her tower. Bad things can happen to pretty little Gryffindors who are out alone at night." He also held out his hand. "Come along, Garrison."

Hermione walked between the two boys. They all left the restricted section, and Tom locked the grate behind them. As they walked toward Gryffindor tower, it dawned on Hermione that she didn't know the password to get into her dorm. That would certainly alert someone as smart as Tom Riddle that things were amiss. She was about to make an excuse to go to the hospital wing instead, when Draco doubled over in pain. He stopped walking, bent at his waist, and held his leg.

Hermione bent at her waist beside him. "What's wrong?" she asked with one hand on his arm, the other on his back.

"It hurts where you kicked my shin earlier," Draco said.

Hermione frowned and said, "What?"

"You know, when you kicked me," he moaned again. "When I tried to kiss you the first time, and you kicked me really hard in the shin. I think you might have broken my leg or something. It hurts to walk."

"Oh, yeah," she said, straightening up to stand. What a feeble lie. She would have thought that the former prince of Slytherin, aka Draco Malfoy, at the moment known as Cygnus Black, would have come up with a better lie than a bruised shin.

Hermione could tell from the doubt that was written all over Tom Riddle's face that he thought the same thing.

"Riddle, help a bloke get to the hospital wing, won't you?" Draco asked. "I'm sure Harriet can make it up to her tower by her lonesome."

Hermione was amazed. Draco was doing this to go to the hospital wing, so that Tom wouldn't know that she didn't know her password to Gryffindor tower. It was as if they were of one mindset, she and Draco, as far as the hospital wing thing went. What a very, very scary thought.

Riddle regarded 'Cygnus' as he moaned in pain. Hermione thought he was laying it on a bit thick, and apparently, so did the future Dark Lord, because he asked, "When did she kick you? You were walking fine earlier."

Tom narrowed his eyes. Hermione could tell that Tom was trying to probe Draco's mind to see if he was lying. There was only one thing to do. She was still standing beside Draco, so she stood up tall and with false indignation she said, "Hey, don't pinch me again!" and she swung back her knee and landed it squarely between his legs.

Draco bent over with a genuine moan. His eyes filled up with tears and he saw stars. His voice went from a baritone to a soprano in one second flat. He cried out, in obvious pain, and winced. "Oh, my stars, oh Merlin, you stupid effing . . . oh," he groaned.

She felt bad for hurting him, but it was the only thing she could think to do to extinguish the doubt from Riddle. Now he had a genuine reason to take Draco to the hospital wing.

It worked because Tom cocked his head to the side and said, "I'll escort you, Black." He looked at Hermione and smiled. He said, "I should dock more points, but I think I admire you a bit, Harriet. That was brilliant. I think someday you might just surprise me."

Seriously, he had no idea.


	6. Chapter 6

**All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling **

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_"I won't let you die," the voice said again. "Come back to me, come back. It's not your time." The funny thing was, she really thought it was her time and she wasn't afraid and she was ready to die if she had to so that someone else could live._

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**Chapter 6 – Cheaters never Prosper, and Neither do they Linger**

"Thanks for coming by, Harry," Ron said as he opened the door wider to allow his best friend to enter his home.

Harry walked inside and shook his head. "Raining cats and dogs out there," he remarked, still shaking drops of rain from his unruly black locks. Water splattered to the tiled floor of the old Victorian's entranceway. "So, what's so important that it couldn't wait until we got into work, Ron?" Harry walked into the house and looked around. He fully expected his other best friend, Hermione, to walk toward the front of the house at any second.

"Um, come in the living room," Ron said. He seemed nervous. Harry picked up on that right away. He also picked up on the fact that something was a bit off, though he didn't know what.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"That's why I've called you," Ron said on a sigh. "I don't know where she is."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in return, trying hard not to sound alarmed, although he was feeling more and more alarmed by the second.

"She's missing," Ron answered.

Harry waited for the punch line. When none was forthcoming, he stepped closer to Ron and asked, "Since when?"

Ron hunched up one shoulder in a slight shrug and said, "Don't kill me, because I know as an Auror how important it is to know these types of things, but I really don't know."

"How could you not know? Your very pregnant wife is missing and you don't know when you last saw her!" Harry was livid. He began to pace around the room. Looking around to see if there was a sign of a struggle, he moved from the living room into the second parlor, and then into the dining room. He left the dining room to look in the study, certain he would at least find her there. He didn't. He ran back into the dining room with Ron hot on his heels.

He turned to face Ron after sweeping through the kitchen and he asked, "When did you last remember seeing her?"

"Right before I took the kids to the train for school," Ron answered, wringing his hands together.

"That was two days ago! You haven't seen her in two days and you're just now reporting her missing!" Harry pushed Ron aside and ran up the stairs, two at a time. He felt frantic and afraid. He called out Hermione's name, not expecting her to answer, but because he didn't know what else to do. This was his best friend, gone for two days. He threw open each bedroom door, and even pushed back the shower curtains in the bathrooms. She was gone. Missing. Vanished. For two days.

He dashed back down the stairs and grabbed Ron's shoulders with his hands. "Tell me everything! Why are you just now reporting her missing?"

"I only noticed she was missing this morning," Ron announced. "I called around everywhere, her parents' house, my parents' house, even your house. I can't think where else she might have gone. I searched the house, and nothing's missing. Her clothes are still here. Her purse is on the back of the chair in the kitchen. The car's in the drive. I drove around our block, thinking she might have taken a walk, but she's not anywhere to be found. There wasn't any cat food in the cat dish, so I don't think she's been here for a couple of days."

Harry was shaking his head, incredulously. "Wait, you last saw her two days ago, on the first day of school, yet you claim you just noticed her missing this morning? How is that possible?"

Ron looked pained and he sat down at one of the chairs in the dining room. He placed a large hand on the smooth wood and he moved it back and forth when he admitted, "I've been gone, too."

Harry felt like taking his wand out of his pocket and leveling his friend right on his bum. "Explain," he said through clenched jaw.

"I'm having an affair," Ron said softly. "With Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy and I've been with her for the last couple of days."

"Holy Shite!" Harry exclaimed. "Does Hermione know?"

"Probably, I mean, I think she knows now, only because Astoria admitted to me that Draco knows and she called me this morning and told me that Malfoy is missing, too. I don't know, I thought maybe he came over here and told her, and she left to make me worried about her or something, yet that doesn't sound like something she would do, does it?"

Harry closed his eyes and prayed to a higher power for the strength not to throttle his friend. "How long has Malfoy been missing, or does his wife not have a clue, either?"

"She said that the house elves claim he left to drop his son off at the station two days ago and he never returned. She wasn't aware he was missing until last night," Ron admitted.

"Yet you didn't miss your very pregnant wife until this morning, interesting," Harry said with as much disdain as he could muster.

"Listen, Harry, don't start," Ron said with a pout. He stood up. "I'm worried about her too, you know."

Harry pushed Ron back into his chair. "Yeah, so worried, that you didn't even know she was missing for two days." Harry held up two fingers.

"Well, after I dropped the kids off at the station, Astoria and I met, and we spent the night together. I told Hermione that I was going to be gone until late. I assumed she went to bed that night, not waiting up for me, as I instructed her to do." Ron stood up and paced around the table. "The next morning, I came home very early and thought she was still sleeping. I showered in the guest bath, and went on into work. I left her a voice mail telling her that I was going to a Quidditch game after work."

Harry glared at him. Ron stopped walking and said, "After work I really met with Astoria again. We were together until pretty late. When I got home, again, I thought Hermione was in bed or something. I didn't want to disturb her, so I slept on the couch. It wasn't until this morning that I finally missed her."

Harry thought Ron was a full pledge wanker. "HOW COULD YOU NOT NOTICE THAT YOUR PREGNANT WIFE WAS MISSING FOR TWO DAYS?" Harry screeched.

"I just told you!" Ron shouted back. "I explained it all to you!"

Harry rushed up to him, placed an arm under his chin, and backed him up against a china hutch. The dishes rattled on the shelves as Harry seethed, "No, what you told me was that you were so self-centered and so fixated on your fling with a married woman that you hoped your wife was in bed every time you came home so that you wouldn't have to face your own guilt! You make me sick. I'm ashamed of you! Get out of here while I conduct an investigation!" Harry backed away from Ron, who fell to the floor.

"What?" Ron said from the floor. "What investigation? There's no investigation needed, Harry. You just need to help me find her."

"As far as I'm concerned, your very pregnant wife is missing, and has been for two days now, and this is a missing person case," he held his arms out, "and this is a possible crime scene," and then he pointed at Ron, "and you are a potential suspect. Get your sorry arse off the floor and go sit on the front steps and don't impede my investigation, or I'll have you thrown into jail. I'm going to call in more Aurors."

"I'm an Auror!" Ron shouted as he stood. "You don't mean to tell me that you're going to tell anyone about this, are you? I don't want anyone to know about my infidelities. Please, Harry. Can't we do this thing ourselves?"

"Fine, obstruct my investigation! I warned you! Now see what happens," Harry cautioned. He pulled out his wand and cursed Ron. Ron fell over backward, unconscious. Harry looked down at him and said, "You piece of shite, it's less than you deserve." Then he got on his mobile phone and called for more Aurors. They arrived immediately, confused when they saw Ron Weasley on the floor by Harry's feet.

After briefing his fellow Aurors, Harry asked one to go interview Astoria Malfoy about her missing husband. He asked one to begin searching for clues in the Weasley house. He asked the third to please take out the trash. "The trash, sir?" the young man asked.

Harry nodded toward Ron on the floor. "The trash."

"Where shall I take him? St. Mungo's?"

"He was impeding an investigation. Put him in a jail cell, isolation please," Harry instructed. The young man nodded, still confused, but he Disapparated away with Ron in his grasp.

Harry stood alone in the Weasley's dining room, the other two wizards already performing their tasks, and he said, "Hermione, where are you?"

Rose Weasley walked out of her brother's dorm and met her best friend Clare in the hallway. "How's your little brother?"

"How do you think?" Rose asked back softly. She looked out the tower window and said, "He was pulled from his classes and told by our uncle Bill that our mother is missing and for some reason, our father is in jail." She started to cry. "What's going on here? Where could our mum be? I hardly even told her goodbye the other day. I just dashed out of the house without a care."

Clare rested her hand on Rose's shoulder. Rose turned to Clare and added, "And apparently Scorpius Malfoy's father is missing as well, and that's so strange. Bill told me something, that he didn't want Hugo to know. He said…he said," she faltered, but then continued, "He said that my dad and Scorpius' mother are having an affair. What if Scorpius' dad did something bad to my mum, as retaliation? He used to be a Death Eater, you know."

"But wouldn't she be the only one missing, and not both of them?" Clare asked.

"I don't know. I don't know anything. Perhaps he did something to her and he ran away, out of fear. I just don't know." Rose ran down the stairs, through the common room and out the portrait hole. She ran to the stairs, not stopping even as people called out to her. She ran and ran and ran until she was at the massive front doors of Hogwarts. Then she ran outside.

She let a sob free as she felt the warmth of the sun on her face. She continued to run through the courtyard, tearing off her school jacket and tie as she went. She left them on the ground as she ran.

Finally, she stopped at the edge of the school grounds, right before the Forbidden forest. Throwing herself on the ground by a copse of trees, she pulled her knees to her face and cried as loudly as she wanted to cry.

Up in the Astronomy tower, Scorpius Malfoy watched Rose Weasley as she ran through the courtyard, out the gate, and to the edge of the Forbidden forest. He knew it was Rose because of her long, beautiful, curly red hair. No one else had hair that long, that red, or that curly. He even knew why she ran. She received the same news that he had.

Only she had received her news from her uncle. He received his from his grandfather. Both of them had been called to the Head Mistress' quarters shortly after breakfast, right after first class had begun. They were sitting in Ancient Runes, two of only twelve students, when a small Hufflepuff boy knocked on the door and handed their professor a note.

The professor nodded, thanked the boy, read the note and then said, "Right, Malfoy and Weasley, go to the Head Mistress' office immediately." This was fine by Scorpius. He didn't mind getting out of class. He picked up his things and started toward the door.

But Rose held back. "Is something wrong, Professor Dawkins?"

"I don't know, Rose," the man said with a smile. "Go find out."

"But I didn't do anything, I swear," she countered.

"For the love of Merlin," Scorpius said from the doorway. "Get your arse in gear, Rose Red." It was his nickname for her. He had started calling her that in first year. He had done it to be mean in the beginning, and because she hated it, and it made her cry. Now it was his special name for her. No one else called her that. No one dared. Every once in a while, he would hear someone else refer to her as "Rose Red" and he would set them straight, and straight away.

Scorpius had lounged by the door, his back propping it open, his hand on the jamb, his long legs crossed at the ankle, and he had tossed his shoulder length blond hair slightly in a mock annoyance. She crossed to the door and walked under his raised arm.

Once out in the hallway he asked, "Why did you automatically assume you were in trouble, Rose Red?"

"Because you were called to the Head Mistress' office, too, and you're always in trouble," she said seriously.

He laughed. "Oh, the old maid loves me, come on, you know that." The truth was somewhere in the middle. Scorpius Malfoy was constantly in trouble. Oh, not the sort of trouble his father was in at his age (with the whole Death Eater, killing their Head Master sort of thing) but he was a leader, not a follower, and he loved a crowd. He loved to be loved. He loved to wreak havoc and encourage mayhem whenever he could. He was also a bit of a contradiction.

He made excellent grades. He was polite and kind to his professors. He didn't bully those younger or less fortunate then him. Again, he wasn't anything like his father. That was why the old Head Mistress loved him, yet hated him. She loved him because he was a lovable guy. She hated that he caused trouble more than occasionally.

Rose Weasley. Now there was a true contradiction, in Scorpius' opinion. He ran down the Astronomy tower steps to find her, thinking about her and why that was. She also made excellent grades. She was also a teacher's dream. Unlike Scorpius, she could care less if she was popular, or if she made people laughed. She hated to be the center of attention. She hated to be noticed.

But she was noticed anyway. People adored her. She was universally loved. She was beautiful beyond belief. Her eyes were large and brown. Her skin was like alabaster porcelain. She had only a handful of freckles, and these were scattered across her nose and cheeks. Her mouth was round and her lips, pink, but to him, her hair was her crowning glory. On her little brother, it was just ginger hair. On her, it was something beautiful and beyond description. She was a friend to everyone and everyone was a friend to her. She helped everyone, and she always had a smile on her face.

It was universally known that she took after her mother in some respects, and that he took after his father in others. Yet, once in a while they would talk of such things and laugh. For one thing, their parents hated each other when they were in school.

Scorpius didn't hate Rose Weasley. Sure, she was a Gryffindor, so by definition, he was in the opposite house from her, but he considered her a friend. It was also well known that they would probably be Head boy and Head girl next year. Scorpius hoped that was true. He wouldn't want to share that honour with anyone but her.

Frankly, he had a bit of a mad crush on her, not that he would admit it. He could have anyone in the school, and he usually did. He didn't _need_ Rose Weasley.

Yet, walking across the school grounds and coming upon her tie and then her jacket, he dipped down to pick them up and realized something. He might not need her, but Merlin help him, he wanted her so.

He found her huddled against a tree and stopped to watch, while he reflected on what happened when they had reached the Head's office earlier. Professor McGonagall called them both in, asked them to sit down, and then informed them that they each had a visitor. Then, her uncle, he didn't know which one, and his grandfather, walked in from another room.

Her uncle knelt by her chair, took her hands, and said, "Rose, your mother is missing. Harry is looking for her everywhere, so I don't want you to worry, but at this moment in time, we have no clue as to where she might be. Your father is in jail, and I'm not really sure why that is. Harry won't tell us anything, only that Ron was impeding the investigation."

Rose looked over her shoulder at Scorpius. He reached across his chair and touched her shoulder and said, "Sorry, Rose Red." Then he looked up at his grandfather and said, "Sir, why are you here?"

"Your father is missing as well, and it might be related to Mrs. Weasley's disappearance." The old man asked to talk to Scorpius in private. As they walked from the room, he looked back. Rose was crying, cradled in her uncle's arms. She immediately began asking questions, worrying about her little brother and so forth.

Out in the corridor, Lucius Malfoy braced one hand on his grandson's shoulder and said, "Your mother and that girl's father were having an affair. Your father found out and I have deduced that he called on Mrs. Weasley and told her. I don't know what happened after that, but the Head Auror, Harry Potter, thinks, and I concur, that there is foul play to be suspected."

Nodding his head twice, Scorpius said, "Thank you for coming and telling me, Grandfather. Please keep me informed. If there's any credence to the fact that my mother was cheating on my father, please deal with her accordingly."

"Oh, do not fear, lad, I will," his elderly grandfather said. In many ways, Scorpius felt closer to the old man than he did his father, but still, he was closer to his father than he was to his mother. His mother was an unfeeling bitch in his opinion. As far as Scorpius was concerned, the crazy witch could rot in hell. If Scorpius had not had his grandparents and his father, he wouldn't know love. His mother had certainly never shown him any love in his life.

Now, looking up at the canopy of leaves that fluttered overhead, Scorpius squinted into the sun and wondered what it would be like to know a mother's love. Rose was crying for her mother, and he knew that was something a person should do. He still thought it was odd, though.

He sat down on the ground, removed his jacket and tie, placed them by his leg with her things, and pulled Rose over to his lap. Her head fell to his thigh and he stroked her hair as she cried. "It'll be okay, Rose Red. They'll find them. They have to. They couldn't have just disappeared."

Because, people didn't just disappear, did they?


	7. Chapter 7

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**_All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling _**

**Chapter 7 – Clear Deceit and Obvious Danger **

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_She was not above giving her life to save another, especially for someone whom she loved. Therefore, she ignored the voice that called to her, beckoning her to stay, telling her that she was not yet dead. The truth was that she died a long time ago, when she gave up on life. It was no real sacrifice to die for someone else. To give your life for your fellow man was the greatest act of love. _

* * *

Thank goodness for Harriet's best friend Joyce Tracemouth. If it wasn't for the girl, Hermione would have been lost and confused during the last two weeks. Instead, she stuck by Joyce's side like glue, and through the other girl was able to find her dorm room, her classes, and learn her classmates' names. Hermione didn't tell the young girl the truth about who she really was. She merely paid very close attention, and watched and learned.

Draco, or Cygnus, had it slightly harder. It seemed that Cygnus was of the minority in Slytherin House, in other words, he wasn't enamored with Tom Riddle, and therefore he wasn't part of Riddle inner circle, which was fine by Draco. He had a harder time making his way around, yet in many ways things were easier for him, because it appeared that the book Hermione had been given by Lupin, which had once belonged to Sirius, was a sort of 'journal' recounting the path of The First Stone.

Again, only Draco, with his 'Black' heritage, could decipher the new secret, and oddly enough, those select paragraphs only revealed themselves to Draco as they were about to occur, or had just occurred. Therefore, Draco couldn't 'read ahead' and find out the reason the stone was used during this time, he could only read about things as they were happening, or had just happened.

Hermione and Draco, or rather Harriet and Cygnus, had two classes together. One was Potions, taught by Professor Slughorn, and one was Defence against the Dark Arts, taught by a Professor by the name of Sneed. Draco thought the name was fitting, as he looked like someone named, 'Sneed'…tall and thin, long pointed nose, and bald. It was during this class, two days after they arrived, that Draco revealed the new secret anomaly regarding the book to Hermione.

Sitting across from each other, at different tables, at the back of the room, Hermione was listening intently as Draco whispered to her that he had just discovered a secret use of the book. "For instance," he explained. "A new passage just appeared. It was written by the real Cygnus apparently, after this class occurred fifty years ago. Something big must be about to happen today."

She frowned, leaned closer, and whispered, "That means we're affecting the future, changing things, if the book is changing, too. I'm not sure it matters anyway, I mean, how is this going to help us? If the book won't reveal how the stone was used until after it was used, I can't see how it can possibly help us. How is it going to help us to know how the stone was used 'after' the fact? Furthermore, I'm Harriet right now, but what if I utilize Hermione's freewill to use the stone in a way that was different from how Harriet originally used it? That would mean that we would have already changed future events."

He pushed her away from him slightly with a slight uppity sneer, closed the book and said, "When you drone on and on like that I feel like someone is boring a hole in my brain with a chisel."

She gave him her sternest look and said, "I'll take a real chisel to your brain if you don't shove it, Malfoy."

"You say the sweetest things," he teased, opening the book again.

He smiled at her and she wanted to hit him or call him a name, but seeing a 'young' Draco Malfoy smile at her was such an odd thing, something that had rarely occurred during their life, that she was caught slightly off guard. She smiled back but whispered, "Seriously, I think we're on a wild goose chase here, Draco. I can't help but think that we're already changing future actions by merely being here. I also think…" her train of thought was cut off as Draco closed the book suddenly and moved to sit back in his seat.

She looked up and saw that Professor Sneed was standing beside her desk. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class, Miss Garrison, or is your discussion for Mr. Black's ears only?" The older man looked down a long pointed nose at her and folded his arms over his chest, tapped his foot on the stone floor, and waited.

"I don't particularly have anything to share with anyone, including Black," Hermione answered, sounding almost flippant.

A few people snickered, including Draco.

"Then I suppose you're already an expert on shield charms, and you don't need to listen to my lecture?" he asked.

"Good heavens, is that what we're learning? What year are we in again?" She seriously looked at Draco, who once again laughed. She was being serious. She didn't remember whether Harriet was in sixth or seventh year, but when she was in school, they learned shield charms as early as third year. "I learned shield charms back when I was thirteen or fourteen," she added.

"Oh really? Where did you learn these shields? Never mind, stand, Miss Garrison. You will show me your best shield charm," the skinny man leered. Hermione openly sighed as she stood. The man looked around the room and said, "Riddle, stand and project a silent spell toward Miss Garrison. We'll see if she can deflect a silent spell, since she is such an expert on shields. In fact, I think she should use a silent shield charm against Riddle's silent curse."

Draco sat up straight in his seat and pulled his wand out to rest on his knees. It was hidden under his desk, but he would use it if necessary. Nonetheless, Hermione didn't look nervous, even though she was facing the future Dark Lord, who had already killed at least three people by this time, if not more.

Riddle stood, smiled at 'Harriet' and pulled out his wand. Draco got an uneasy feeling that Riddle was somehow manipulating all of this for his own benefit. Perhaps the Professor was under Tom's influence. Draco said, "We've not learned silent spells yet, sir. It's not fair to make her deflect a silent spell. Most people can't even perform silent magic by our age." He looked at Hermione and said, "Have you learned silent spells yet, Harriet?" He willed her to say 'no' even though he knew that Hermione was more than proficient at silent spells. He had an uneasy feeling about all of this, especially after having read the secret passage in the book that something important was to occur today.

Normally, silent spells wasn't something that was taught, as so few wizards could perform them. She wasn't worried, as she had mastered silent and wandless magic years ago. The point was, had Harriet? She was going to lie and tell the professor that she didn't know silent spells, or even any sort of shield charms, when the professor barked, "Sit down, Black. She doesn't need you defending her. Let her prove to me what she knows or doesn't know. I'm sure the Head boy will take it easy on her." Turning back to Hermione he said, "Proceed."

Hermione wondered why their professor wanted Tom to perform a silent curse on Harriet. There had to be a better reason besides the fact that she wasn't paying attention to his lecture. Not knowing that she was suspecting the same thing that Draco suspected, she wondered if this was being orchestrated, somehow, by Riddle himself.

Tom stood at the ready, wand drawn out to his side. He smiled sweetly toward her and said, "I'll take it easy on you, Harriet. Besides, perhaps that pretty little necklace you always wear nowadays will deflect my spell."

Mirroring Tom Riddle, Hermione tucked the amulet under her school robe and pulled out her wand and said, "Please, don't take it easy on my account. I've not only learned silent spells, Tom, but I believe I'll give silent deflecting of them a good go. After you."

Tom didn't like the open challenge. He flicked his wrist and a strange, almost amethyst coloured light emitted from his wand. Draco didn't recognize the spell, but Hermione was not caught unaware. She repelled the spell easily, the light bouncing off a glow of golden light that formed a shield around her body.

Draco smiled. He almost applauded. Tom Riddle looked perplexed. He doubted that the young Tom Riddle knew that Hermione Granger had one of the brightest minds of their generation, or that instead of a sixteen or seventeen year old 'Harriet Garrison' he was actually facing a thirty-eight year old woman who had help him meet his future demise.

Tom circled around Hermione and said, "Nice deflection. I don't think I recognize the spell you used to ward off my spell, however."

"Likewise," Hermione said as a response. She didn't lower her wand. Tom held up his wand and with a determined look, he flung another spell toward her. Again, a strange colour came from Tom's wand. He was using magic that was either very dark, very advanced, or of his own making.

Still, Hermione, or in the eyes of all her classmates (save for Draco, who saw her as Hermione Granger) Harriet, did not look scared, and she acted fast. When the strange teal coloured light came out of Tom's wand, and almost 'snaked' around her legs in its attempt to ensnare her, she held completely still. A soft ivory light came from her skin, glowing brighter as it soaked up the light from Tom's spell. Tom's spell disintegrated into a million tiny molecules and then disappeared into thin air. Draco didn't recognize the magic she was using either, but at this point it didn't matter, because Tom Riddle looked angry, and Hermione Granger looked perturbed.

The professor looked worried, almost as if he finally realized what was happening, and decided finally to intervene.

"Alright, fine example you two. Very good, very good, you've both shown fine examples of shield charms and silent spells. Have a seat now," he remarked. He started back toward the front of the class when an earsplitting noise came from Tom's wand, followed by red and silver streams of light. The light twisted around, grew brighter, bigger, and the sound screeched like a strangled scream from the bellows of hell below.

Hermione was temporarily caught off guard, and she instinctively placed her hands to her ears, dropping her wand in the process. The soft white light of her previous shield dropped and the red and silver light from Tom's spell merged in a macabre fictitious display that resembled blood and bones washed together, until they formed a morbid monster that seemed to swallow her whole.

Girls screamed. People ran from the room. The professor shouted for someone to get Headmaster Dippet. Draco dropped the book from his hands, pointed his wand at the 'monster' and waited tensely for the smoke and haze of Riddle's spell to dissipate so that he could see what had become of Hermione.

Riddle eyes suddenly flashed a banked red. Draco sensed that he felt triumphant. The black smoke that clouded the scene before them, washed away. As the smoke and fog lifted, Draco saw Hermione, standing in a small sphere, a white light so bright around her that she glowed. She was safe in a cocoon. Riddle's spell hadn't touched her at all.

Draco lowered his wand and sighed with relief. The only ones remaining in the room were Sneed, Riddle, Harriet, Cygnus, and now Professors Dippet and a really quite young Professor Dumbledore.

Tom lowered his wand and his hand shook ever so slightly. He looked taken aback that anyone would survive his onslaught, let alone come out untouched and standing. Dumbledore moved toward Hermione and said, "Miss Garrison, you may lower your shield now. Nothing can touch you. You are no longer in any danger. I promise you."

Hermione lowered the protection shield with a slight wave of her hand. Dumbledore bent down, picked up her wand, and handed it to her. He looked on her in awe, as did Draco. She had reflected some sort of dark monster from the future Dark Lord all without her wand.

Dippet questioned Sneed, inquiring why things had progressed so far. Conversely, no one asked the evident…how had two 'school aged teenagers' such as Riddle and Harriet, performed such obvious acts of advanced, and perhaps even unknown, magic. Draco could tell that Dumbledore wanted to question Hermione, but instead he said, "Mr. Black, could you escort Miss Garrison to the Hospital wing?"

Draco was confused by that request, until he stepped closer, and saw that Hermione did indeed look unwell. Her skin was pale, she was shaking all over, and even her teeth were rattling. Dumbledore placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder until Draco reached her side. He reached over for her hand. It was like ice. He grasped her hand in his and urged her from the room.

All the while, Dippet continued to make inquiries of Sneed, Dumbledore continued to look at Riddle, and Riddle looked at a small black book that was lying open on the floor.

Later that night Hermione stretched as she woke from a heavy slumber. A strange, high pitched whistling sound woke her. The first thing she did was place a hand on her stomach. It was flat. This wasn't a dream. She wasn't Hermione Granger at the moment. She wasn't eight months pregnant. She didn't have a cheating husband. She wasn't safe in her bed in Surrey. She was stuck in the body of a girl names Harriet Garrison. The only thing that was similar to the life she led two weeks ago was the heavy amulet that was around her neck.

She turned her head. Draco was on a bed beside her, his feet crossed at the ankles, two pillows propped under his head, and he was whistling, hence the high pitch whistling sound.

"What are you whistling?" Hermione asked.

He stopped whistling and turned his head to look at her quickly. "About time you woke up. It's after midnight. The mediwitch told me to get her as soon as you woke up, but I suspect the old biddy is hitting the sauce, and is passed out about now. Makes one wish for Madame Pomfrey, it does." He looked back up toward the ceiling and added, "And to answer your question, I was whistling, 'A Little Night Music' by Mozart."

"I thought so," she said with a smile. "I thought it was my alarm clock when I first heard it. How long was I sleeping?"

He looked at his wrist, which didn't even have a watch, and said, "Hell if I know." Sitting up, he swung his feet to the ground and clasped his hands in front of him. "Boy, you made an enemy. Everyone's talking about how you bested Riddle. Frankly, I thought it was brilliant."

Hermione sat up as well, though slower than he had. She placed her bare feet on the floor and looked down at her bare arms. "I'm in a hospital gown," she stated the obvious. Draco held his arms up as if to say, 'well duh,' as she shrugged. "Draco?" she said softly, standing with a wobble, and moving over to his bed to sit beside him. He placed a hand out to steady her, but let it drop when she didn't appear to need his help. "Draco," she repeated, "Riddle tried to kill Harriet. That last spell was dark. I felt like a million shards of glass were piercing my skin, even as that high pitched noise was drilling holes in my eardrums. My heart felt as if it was about to burst out of my chest. What if I hadn't been able to put up that last shield? Why would he want Harriet dead?"

"I think I know why," Draco said and then he exhaled a long held breath.

"Why?"

"Wait." He stood and looked around. They were alone. He placed a silencing charm around the bed and sat next to her again. "Let me rephrase. I don't know why he wants her dead, but I do know that's why she's wearing the stone, or why you're wearing it, rather. Orion, Cygnus' brother, must have given her the stone to keep her safe. Somehow, I think it helped you deflect that last spell."

"I haven't figured out the 'whys' yet. It was only just revealed to me that Orion gave her the stone for protection, because I had just read that part in the book when Sneed made you two duel, which by the way, I think was Riddle's idea, though that's just conjecture on my part. The question that needs asking is; why would Riddle want to harm her, especially as she's a pureblood?"

She shrugged slightly. "Do you think he wants to hurt her more than he wants the stone?"

"Perhaps he wants both," he concluded.

"How will we know?" she asked. She moved slightly so that her feet were off the floor. She trembled.

"Cold?"

She nodded.

Draco stood from his bed, moved to her abandoned one, and pulled off the grey blanket from the top. He threw it to her before coming to sit back beside her on his bed. She placed the blanket around her shoulders and moved so that her feet were under his covers. "As I was saying, both before Riddle tried to pulverize me earlier, and just now, how will we ever know what the stone was used for during this time? We shouldn't have come, because this isn't what I expected. I thought at the most we would be bit players, not the stars, of this horrible gothic drama. At the least, I had hoped we would be nothing more than silent observers. We're experiencing things as they're happening, thereby changing them. I had no clue this spell would send us back here as accomplices."

"I agree," he said, though he smiled, "though I've had fun the last two weeks."

She snorted. "You've not been almost killed."

"That you know of," he countered. "I did have someone bust me in the balls though, and that was painful, let me tell you. And those dungeons are cold this time of year, and my bed is lumpy. I think I'll sleep here tonight. I got attached to this place after spending my first night here…when you kicked me in the family jewels, which by the way, as aforementioned, wasn't pleasant."

She murmured a small laugh and allowed herself to sink down lower in the bed, with him still sitting beside her body. Turning to her side, she tucked her hands under her face. "What do you suppose is going on back home, in our time?"

He didn't respond. He didn't respond because he frankly didn't care.

"I mean, I thought we would be in another dimension or plane, or something metaphysically, but I think we're here corporeally, which is scary to think. It makes me curious as to what's happening back home. If we were here in a quantum sense, everything back home could be passing by in a blink of an eye, and no one would know we were gone. We can't be sure of that, though. Where is Hermione Granger Weasley, pregnant mother, bored hausfrau at this very moment? Where is Draco Malfoy, wealthy, slightly balding, unhappily married father of one?"

He was listening intently, studying her, and was going to answer her seriously until she said 'slightly balding'. Then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard he almost fell off the bed. She sat up, slapped her hand against his arm and said with a smile, "Stop laughing."

"I'm not balding!" he said between gaffs. "Stop saying that!"

"Well sure, Cygnus has a full head of hair, but Draco Malfoy, well, you're just in denial," she mocked. Suddenly, she turned serious. "Really, Draco, what's going on back home do you suppose? Are Hermione and Draco still there? Has two weeks passed there, like they have here? I think we should go back. Everyone might be worried about us."

Anger coursed through him, displacing the laughter from seconds earlier. Standing, he hissed, "I don't care if everyone's worried. Let them worry! Let Astoria wonder where I am, and what might happen to me! Let her deal with my father for a while! Let her worry about where her next galleon might come from if I should divorce her arse! I don't care!"

She placed a pillow over her lap and said, "But I do care, Draco. Sure, Ron's cheating on me, and that's terrible, but I have to face it! I have to face him, and what if my children know that I'm missing? What if they're worried? And what about my baby? If my body is gone, is it gone, too? We have to go back. Give me the book." She held out her hand. "I can't remember the spell to go back without the book."

Dread filled him when she mentioned the book. The book. He hadn't even missed it until now. "I don't have it," he admitted. "I left it in the classroom. Gads, Granger, what if Riddle picked up the book?"

Throwing the pillow to the floor, she stood swiftly, standing beside him. "You have to get that book back!"

"No!" he shouted. "Not yet. I don't even care if he has it. I'll get it later. I'm not ready to go back. I have nothing to go back to, and I'm curious as to the magic of The First Stone. I want to learn more. If that means you're stuck here with me, then so be it." He stormed from the Hospital wing and left her standing in the dim light of the cavernous room all alone.

Feeling dejected and vulnerable, with a chill in the air making her scantily clad body shiver and the cold marble floor making her bare feet feel like blocks of ice, she moved to walk back over to the bed where she had first discovered Draco. She felt small and helpless, and she hated feeling like that. She also hated feeling reliant on another person, and not being in control.

She lay back on Draco's abandoned bed, hugged the pillow to her chest, threw the covers over her body, turned to her side, and began to cry.

Draco stood outside the doors listening to her cry. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to go back, not yet. He was curious, and he couldn't believe the Hermione Granger that he knew wasn't as curious as he. Likewise, he was having fun here with her, even if he was stuck inside another man's body, during dark times, with a young Voldemort as a classmate. He wouldn't make any apologies, no matter how hard she cried.

Pushing open the door to step back into the ward, he watched her huddled on his abandoned bed, crying and trying in vain to console herself. He strolled slowly toward her. He reached down, his knuckles running lightly over her bare arm, to her hand. Uncurling her fingers, her hand grasped his. Resigned, he sat back on the bed and said, "I'll get the book back tonight and we'll go back to our time, Hermione. Don't worry." He slumped down on the bed, leaned his body over hers, kissed her shoulder and said, "Now, no more tears, please." Resting his body across hers, he continued to hold her as she cried.

Down in the dungeons, Tom Riddle had just finished reading all about The First Stone in the book that was left in the classroom by Cygnus. Now all he had to do was decipher symbols and runes in the back of the book, and the power of The First Stone would be his.


	8. Chapter 8

**All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling **

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**Chapter 8: Without Human Touch, There is no Humanity**

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_Someone called to her again. They called her name repeatedly. Watching her for a long time, he thought she was so quiet that he wondered if she was even breathing. What was a normal respiration rate? At last, her chest heaved and her arm moved. She was alive. It had worked. The First Stone had worked_.

* * *

Scorpius stood beside a shelf in the massive library at Hogwarts and he watched his Rose Red as she filtered through book after book. She was definitely up to something. He had a suspicion what it was. She was looking for information regarding The First Stone.

He shouldn't have told her about seeing his father's amulet the first day of school. He shouldn't have told her that he knew his father was going to visit her mother that day either, although Scorpius didn't develop a theory about the 'reason' until later. When he finally figured out that his father must have presented The First Stone to her mother that day, he should have kept that information to himself.

She wouldn't find anything useful here at this library, but they might discover something useful in the library at Malfoy Manor, or the one at Grimmauld Place.

He walked behind her chair to stand closer so that he could study her intimately. She was so intense. So fixated on her task. So single minded. He wondered if he reached out and touched her, would she even know that he was there. He loved touching her. He always made it seem like an accident, but it was usually on purpose. Hell, he loved touching anyone, but he longed to touch her. He longed for any human touch, but he desired hers the most. Lifting his hand careful, with stealth like precision, he was about to lay a hand on her shoulder when without raising her head she finally spoke. "What do you want, Scorpius?"

Withdrawing his hand away slowly, he took a seat beside her, he lifted the book right out of her hand and then in a bold and sudden move, he took her hands in his. Touching another person's skin was odd to him as it wasn't something he did often. Her skin was so incredibly soft. It was warm, soft, and tender, and it made him feel strange, but in a good way. He finally said, "You won't find the answers you're seeking here at Hogwarts."

"Au contraire, mon ami," she said with a smile. It was the first smile he had seen from her in weeks.

He leaned closer and said, "If you're going to speak French to me, don't call me your friend. Call me something worthy of the language. Something intimate, or romantic." He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

"Ennuyer a gâté le marmot?" she said with a raise of HER eyebrows, while removing her hands from his. She picked the book back up from the table, placed it in front of her, and opened it to the same spot.

Scorpius frowned and said, "For your information, I am not a spoiled brat, and those were hardly the French words I wanted to hear from you." She shrugged and went back to her work. After a studied silence, he said, "I wish I hadn't told you my theory that my father asked your mother to use The First Stone."

She closed the book, looking at him as if he had two heads. Appalled, she said, "I'm glad you told me! I think it's plausible. I know my mother and your father wrote a report together regarding it when they went to school here. I found a copy of it in the archives. It could have something to do with why they're missing, although I'm not sure. Nothing I've read makes me believe that the thing makes people disappear."

"Exactly, as I said, nothing you find here will be useful," he said lazily, looking at his fingernails. "Now, at the Manor's library, there are all sorts of books that might prove helpful. If not, maybe the library at Grimmauld Place."

"Grimmauld Place?" she asked.

"The First Stone was passed down on the Black side of the family, by my grandmother's family, the Black's. Harry Potter lives at Grimmauld Place. You could look there."

She sighed, closing the book before her. "I'm not even sure how we would leave school without causing suspicion, and then if we asked to look at Harry's library, he would become especially suspicious, and frankly, I don't want to tell anyone our theory yet."

"I'm not sure I want you to lump me in with you and call it 'our' theory," he interjected.

"You wouldn't have told me about this if you didn't think it had something to do with the reason they're gone," she pointed out.

He wasn't going to argue with her, one, because she was right, and two, because he usually lost any argument their shared. He reasoned, "We could sneak out somehow, I've done it before, or I could get my grandfather to come get us for some reason or another, or maybe your father would let you come home for a while if he knew you wanted to search for your mum."

She looked pained, shaking her head dramatically. Scorpius hated that she looked so sad. She admitted, "I don't want to involve my dad in this. I also don't think I can face him after what he's done with your mother. He's been out of jail for a week now, but I just can't seem to forgive him so far." She placed her arms on the table and lowered her head upon them. "How could he do that to my mum? She's eight months pregnant, for goodness sakes! And she's always been a good wife to him, and the best mum ever." Overwhelmed, she began to cry. Feeling embarrassed as well, she hid her face the best she could and said, "I'm sorry. I'm being such a baby."

He wanted to reach out to her, touch her once more, tell her it was okay to cry. If he had a great mum, and she had been missing for two weeks, as hers had, he might be crying, too. As it was, he had a terrible mother. His mother tried to contact him right after his father disappeared and he refused to see her. He knew she had no remorse. He also knew, from his grandfather, that she had seen Rose's father since the man had been released from jail. He would never tell her that.

He did miss his father, though. Maybe not as much as Rose missed her mother, but then, he wasn't as worried as Rose. He knew that his father would be fine. His father would never have left if he hadn't had a clear plan, furthermore, he would never put Rose's mother in danger. Never.

He also knew, without a doubt, that his father would seek revenge on his mother when he returned, and that was what Scorpius wanted. He longed for that as much as he longed to hold Rose's hand again. Without forethought he said, "I think I hate my mother."

Rose looked up, shocked. "How can you say something like that? That's terrible, and I know you don't mean it."

"I do mean it," he revealed. "She's been a terrible mother. She's never told me that she loves me. When I was a child, she never took me anywhere, read to me, told me stories, or held me when I was sick, or healed me when I was hurt. She only had me to ensure that my father would never divorce her. My grandparents and Father did everything for me when I was little. They still do. I can't even recall the last time my mother touched me."

Rose had the undeniable urge to reach out to him, hug him, but she held back. She knew he was proud, and she didn't want to discomfit or embarrass him. "Surely she loves you though, I mean, you're her son, the flesh of her flesh. Some people just aren't demonstrative."

He shook his head. "I heard her and my father arguing once. Well, I've heard them arguing all my life, but once, when I was five, I was hiding under the table in the main dining hall at Malfoy Manor, after we had just moved in there. She was upset because she wanted her own suite of rooms, instead of sharing with my father. She thought the rooms should have been larger than they were and my father was walking all around trying to get away from her harping."

"They walked into the large dining hall. It was rarely ever used. I loved to go in there and slide along the table in my stocking feet."

Rose smiled at that and he returned her smile. One of his hands was moving back and forth on the table in front of them, as if to illustrate. He continued, "It was a large, cavernous room, with dark paneled walls covered with swords and shields and animal heads. The floors were polished marble, with plush Abyssinian rugs, and there were massive family portraits over the two colossal stone fireplaces. Dark, maroon, velvet drapes hung in front of the floor to ceiling windows."

"I heard them coming and I hid under the table. The sounds of their argument echoed all throughout the room."

"My father told my mother to be happy with what she had. He said he didn't even want to live there. He hated the place, and said that he always had. He told her it had terrible memories for him, that he didn't care if he ever lived there, and that he moved there for me, not even for her. He said, and I quote, _"If it wasn't for Scorpius, you wouldn't even be here. I wouldn't still be married to you. I can't stand to look at you. The only good thing you've ever given me is my son."_ end quote."

Rose stilled the hand on top of the table by placing her hand on his. His whole body stilled as well.

"What did she say?"

"She told him that she totally agreed with him, except for one thing. She too was glad that I was born, but only because it did assure that she was a Malfoy, and that she could have access to the Malfoy name, money, and estate. She told him that she hated him, and that she couldn't stand to look at him either. She said that if he considered me the best thing she had ever given him, then the least he could do for her in return, was to convince his mother to give her a bigger suite of rooms, one all to herself."

Rose didn't know what to say. "She probably was just angry. She didn't mean it."

"She saw me under the table. She looked right at me when she said it. I know now that she wanted to hurt my father when she said it, but the unforgivable thing is that she didn't care if she hurt me, too." He turned his hand over and clasped hers. "My father turned around quickly, saw me, called her a bitch, and pulled me out from under the table. He held me against his chest, his hand on the back of my head to keep me from looking at her, though I heard everything. He told her that she would have her larger suite of rooms all her own, but that she was never to come near me or him again."

Again, silence ensued until it was awkward. Rose asked, "If he doesn't care for her, why would he care that she's cheating on him? Why do you think he would want to use The First Stone to try to stop her cheating?"

He turned her hand over in his to look at her palm. His thumb rubbed the soft skin of the inside of her palm, then the veins on her wrist. Closing her hand in his, he kissed her fingers, and then placed her hand on her lap. She shivered when his lips touched her skin.

He placed his hand back on the table and admitted, "I don't think that was his real agenda."

"What was it?"

Now he placed his head on the table, on his arms, and looked away from her. He felt her stroke his long hair. It felt heavenly. It was sheer bliss, at one of the bleakest times of his life, a loving touch, by someone he loved. He couldn't even remember how long he had desired this feeling. He said, "I think my father's plan was to go back in time to change things, but not for the reasons you think."

"Then why?"

He finally turned his head. He stopped her hand mid stroke, taking it back in his. Sitting up, he blurted out, "Because my father's been in love with your mother since he used The First Stone twenty-two years ago."


	9. Chapter 9

**_All characters belong to JK Rowling_**

**_Chapter 9 - For He So Love the World_**

* * *

_She was alive. The Stone had saved her, just as he was promised that it would do. Now, he only hoped that she would forgive him somehow._**_  
_**

* * *

How long had Draco loved Hermione? He thought back and decided that he probably had fallen in love with her sometime when he was fourteen or fifteen years old. Some might debate the fact that one so young couldn't know real love, but he knew what he felt for her back then was no mere infatuation. It was love. It still was.

When he gave her the stone two weeks ago, he did so out of love. He also did it for selfish reasons. He knew she would enact the power of the stone to go back in time, and that was what he wanted. He wanted to leave his world, his time, because he could no longer tolerate living in it. He hated his wife. He hated his farce of a marriage and he wanted out, and his father made it clear that divorce was not an option, so he saw no other way out but to escape. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it was the only one that made sense to him at the time. He was unhappy, unloved, and he was tired – tired of feeling wretched every single day when he awoke, every night when he went to bed, and every second in between.

When he used the power of the stone that first time, years ago, he did it out of love. He did it to save the woman he loved. He did it to save the woman sleeping in his arms, on a small bed in the Hospital ward at Hogwarts. He used it so that she wouldn't die at the hands of his aunt, the crazy lunatic, Bellatrix Lestrange. If he hadn't used it, that night at the Manor, the night his aunt used the Unforgivable curse on her, Hermione Granger would have died.

For that was the true magic of The First Stone. It was made to save the bearer's one true love.

That was a well guarded secret. No one knew the true magic behind the stone. Over the centuries, many things had been written regarding the magic proprieties, and attributes, of the stone. Some things written were truths. Some things were lies. Some fell somewhere in the middle.

He stood from the bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. He hated lying to her. He knew that they needed to go back to their time and face reality. He gave her the stone willingly, and while she couldn't really use it to keep their spouses from cheating, as she was led to believe, she could still use the power of the stone to save the life of the one person she loved, but he wondered, who might that be? If they went back now, and he tried to kill himself, did she love him yet? Would she use it to save him? He was that desperate. That desolate, but also, uncertain.

Draco left the Hospital wing and walked toward the dungeons. He had to get that book back from Riddle. He couldn't let Riddle, or even Hermione for that matter, figure out the true meaning of the stone. As he walked, he recited the secret incantation that would activate the true power of the stone. He memorized it long ago, and every so often, he would recite it to himself, as an assurance that he would never forget.

Walking even steps on an uneven floor, he whispered:

"A Stone to be carried, deep in your heart,  
Will defeat the death of any man.  
For love that is pure, death cannot impart,  
A future of pain and suffering.

Use it once, but not in vain,  
To defeat death and its final say,  
But if thou uses it once again,  
The life that was saved will pass away."

He repeated the phrase twice more before he reached the door of the dungeons. He said the password, opened the door, and found an empty common room. He looked at the old mantle clock. It was three in the morning. Would Riddle still be awake? It didn't matter. He had to get that book, and get him and Hermione out of this time, before either Riddle or Hermione discovered the truth about the stone. He wanted to come back in time to give her a chance to fall in love with him. He didn't want to come back in time and have her worry, or be sad, or afraid, or hurt or harmed.

Would Hermione hate him when she found out the true meaning? She assumed they were changing events in this time, but little did she know that things were unfolding exactly as they had the first time, with no help or hindrance from them.

Riddle did try to kill Harriet all those years ago, and Orion had given the stone to her for protection, but at the insistence of Cygnus, who had been in love with her. The only way the magic of the stone could be used was for love.

The First Stone was an instrument of magic that could only protect a woman or man from imminent death, if used by someone that loved him or her. It didn't need to be in the possession of the person who was facing death, such as the case with Cygnus and Harriet…no, it was mere happenstance that Harriet had the stone and that Hermione came back and assumed that Harriet only had it because she had brought it with her. It only needed to be in the possession of one of the parties for the magic to activate.

However, the magic could only be used once for each possessor of the stone.

Some of the fables and the stories about the stone passed down over the centuries were correct to a certain extent. The possessor could only use it once. People could go back in time to see how it was used, but they couldn't change an event unless the particular event pertained to them. Hermione couldn't change anything from the past except for the one time that the stone was used to save her life.

Rowena Ravenclaw did make the stone for her friend Helga Hufflepuff and gave it to her on the day of her wedding. She did so because Helga's potential groom was in danger. Salazar Slytherin hated the man and wanted him dead. He was in love with Helga and wanted her to marry him, but she loved another, hence the reason Rowena made the stone. She presented the stone to Helga and a book, containing the magical properties of the stone, to Godric Gryffindor, for safekeeping.

She told him that she wrote a false history of the stone in the beginning of the book, but that only he and his heirs would be able to read the true meaning of the stone, which was written on the final pages of the book. In addition, there was an entire section in the back of the book that was left blank, so that the future history of the stone could be written there upon, when it unfolded. She assured Godric that it would write itself, and his only job was to pass the book down through his bloodline and that when Helga died, he was to be sure that the stone returned to the book, also to be passed down.

Slytherin discovered the true meaning of the stone, and because of his hatred of Rowena, and the thought that she was somehow meddling with things he felt to be none of her concern, he put a curse on the stone. One in which only someone with his blood could activate. His curse was that anyone with his blood could undo any one event that happened due to the activation of the magic of the stone. Meaning, if someone used the stone to stop the death of the person they loved, someone with his blood could go back in time and prevent that from occurring. That meant that only a Slytherin heir could stop an event, any event, during the lifetime of the stone, or a person could stop their own event from occurring, but no one else could change the past, as commonly thought.

Slytherin did it for selfish reasons. His intention was to kill Helga's betrothed, and even if she used the magic of The First Stone to save him, his curse on the stone would allow him to go back and keep that from happening.

However, according to the perpetual history contained in the book, Godric became aware of what Slytherin was preparing to do, and he stopped him. Slytherin was never able to enact that magic. Helga married the man she loved. The First Stone and the book found their way to each other over the generations, and eventually came to be in the Black family. Only members of that family, who were distantly related to Godric Gryffindor, could read the secret passage of the book that told the true meaning of the stone – which was that it could only be used to save a life for love.

Being the proud, pureblood family that they were, they often bragged that they had the stone in their possession, but over the centuries and generations, they made up stories and fables of the many uses and magic regarding it. Thus, history books and reference books recorded these stories as facts.

Very few people knew the true origin or meaning of The First Stone. Only the possessor of the stone, which was the first-born male of each line, knew that it was a protection device used to protect a loved one. The descendents of Salazar Slytherin were aware of the fact that he placed a counter curse on it.

Tom Riddle became aware of this from a journal that he stole from that dirty little hovel in which his uncle lived. He stole the journal, along with Slytherin's ring, shortly after he killed his real father and grandparents, and blamed his uncle for their deaths. When the Aurors took his uncle to prison, he ransacked the house and took anything that belonged to the Slytherin line.

Tom Riddle knew very little of the true history of the stone. He only knew what was written in the old journal that he found. Nevertheless, he was convinced there was more to the stone than what was written in an ancient journal, passed down from generation to generation from Salazar Slytherin himself. There had to be. Surely, one of the greatest wizards of all time, Salazar Slytherin, wouldn't have merely placed a counter curse on a mere little love token. That was why he had to get a hold of that stone. He knew it was important, somehow. At least he had the book now. The book would tell him how to use the stone, if only he could figure out how to decipher the writings in the last chapter.

Draco knew which door led to the Head boy's room. He didn't care that the hour was late. He didn't care if Riddle might be sleeping. He also didn't care if Riddle possessed powerful magic, even at this early age. All he cared about was getting the book and taking Hermione away from here.

He did not intend to go home. No, not yet. He had to have more time with her. He had to make her fall in love with him. As long as the power of The First Stone allowed them to continue traveling across the ages, to see the previous paths of the stone, he would do it. As long as he had Hermione by his side, and they were safe, he would continue to travel through the ages, from decade to decade, until she felt the same thing for him that he felt for her.

He was desperate and he knew of no other way. Sure, he could have gone to her the day he took the amulet to her house and said, "Our spouses are cheating on us with each other and by the way, I love you. I've loved you for most of my life. I want to be with you. What do you think?"

That would never have worked. He knew it. Was this going to work? Maybe not, especially if he didn't get that book from Riddle, and get them to a different decade. He knocked on the Head boy's door. There was no answer. He started to his dormitory when a small boy, no more than eleven years old, stepped up toward him.

"Mr. Black?" the boy asked.

At first, Draco didn't answer, then he remembered that he was presently his maternal grandfather, Cygnus Black. "Yes?" He leaned down toward the small boy.

"The Head boy asked me to give you this when you returned to the dungeons." The small boy handed Draco a note. It was written by Riddle, requesting that he meet him on top of the Astronomy tower. Very well. Draco wanted this to end tonight.

Walking all the way from the dungeons to the tower, he thought of how things would play out, how he would confront the future Dark Lord, and most of all, how he would ever tell Hermione the truth. He had put her in danger, he had made her suffer unnecessarily, all because he was selfish and didn't want to face a future without her.

Reaching the door to the tower, Draco wasn't surprised when the door opened on its own. He walked the narrow, circular stairs, two at a time, the only sound he heard was the sound of his feet falling on the wooden steps and his breath leaving his lungs at the mild exertion. When he reached the top, the door was open. A rush of cold, winter air hit him immediately. He walked out, wand drawn, to find Tom Riddle sitting on the ledge, the book in hand. He said, "I've been waiting for you, Cygnus. Do come join me."

Draco narrowed his eyes, walked toward the Head boy, and with his mind, willed the door closed. Tom smiled at that and said, "Ah, another worthy foe, using wandless magic at such a tender age, just like dear, sweet Harriet. How is the little Mudblood who is masquerading as a pureblood?"

Draco tried not to act surprised at that statement, even though he wasn't sure what Riddle meant by it. "She's resting," he said.

Tom jumped down from the ledge, leaving the book precariously perched on a stone that jutted out taller than the rest. "Did you think that I wouldn't find out that your girlfriend was really a Mudblood, adopted by a pureblood family, Black?" He circled around Draco as he spoke. "Tsk, tsk, but you and Orion have disappointed me so. You openly defy me, repeatedly. You believe in pureblood purification, just as I do, but when it comes to acting upon it, you both turn your backs on me. It's so disappointing and distressing, especially as you both come from such a good family. Your blood is old blood, blood from the founders even. Like me, you can trace your lineage to the Peverell brothers, is that not correct?"

Draco yawned, and tried to act bored. He leaned against the circular wall. "Is there a point to your diatribe? And as far as the Peverells go, what pureblood can't call them an ancestor, or I should say, what pureblood doesn't call them an ancestor, whether they are or not."

Tom stood in front of him. "True, true, but we know the ancient house of Black's blood is as pure as pure can be. You will never marry Harriet. You've been promised to Druella Rosier since you were both children, and we both know your cousin Orion is promised to your sister Walburga. Where does Harriet fit into all of this?" Tom held up his hands.

Draco was beginning to wonder that himself, and then it hit him. "I'll tell you where she fits in. You wanted her, didn't you? You weren't going to tell anyone of the fact that she was adopted, especially seeing that you, yourself, are nothing but a half blood," Draco started. Tom grimaced, and Draco knew he was on the right track. "Did she turn you down, Tom? Did you profess your undying love to her, only to have her throw it in your face?" Draco began to taunt the other boy, no longer caring that he was the future Dark Lord.

"Did she tell you that you weren't good enough for her…you, the ancestor of Salazar Slytherin, not good enough for someone who doesn't even know who her father and mother are, well, that must have rankled your hackles a bit, aye?"

"Shut up!" Tom shouted.

"That is it!" Draco replied, pleased. "True, I may not be able to profess my love for her, and I may have to marry who my parents have picked out for me, out of duty, but that doesn't mean I can't protect the woman I love from the likes of you!"

At that one sentence, Draco knew he had revealed too much. Tom smiled. Draco hissed.

"Is that what the amulet really does, protect the possessor's loved one? I thought so," Tom confirmed. "I have a ratty old journal that belonged to my mother's family that said almost as much." He walked over to the ledge where he sat when Draco, as Cygnus, entered the top of the tower and picked up the black book from the ledge. "Now, tell me what this book does. How is it related to the stone? I must know. Tell me, and I might let you leave here alive. Tell me, and I might let her live as well."

"Give me the book, and I might let you live," Draco sneered in return.

Tom Riddle smiled. Draco knew he was truly looking at the face of evil, into the eyes of a soulless, black void. "Did you think I would come up here without protection, Cygnus. I have my friends near. I call them my Death Eaters. A nice name, don't you agree? Avery! Mulciber!" He called for his friends, but soon his smile faded.

Draco's grew larger. "Perhaps your friends have abandoned you. How sad."

"They would never!" Tom hissed. He called for them again, as he leaned closer to the tower doorway. No one answered. No one heeded his call.

"Fine, I don't need them to get what I want. I can convince you to talk. I think the Crucio will work quite nicely. I've perfected it over the years, and can render it for a very long time. Let's see how long you can withstand it, before you tell me everything that I want to know." Tom raised his wand and pointed it toward Draco. Draco raised his and pointed it back toward Riddle.

A flash of light came out of nowhere. Blue, green, and explosive, the light blinded both men temporarily. Riddle backed into the outer wall of the tower, his wand arm lowering, his other arm going over his eyes. He soon fell to the tower floor.

Draco felt someone grab his sleeve and pull. Without questioning, he let the unknown person lead him down the stairs. Still blinded, he stumbled down the circular staircase, slipping twice.

When he reached the bottom, his vision returned. It was Hermione. "We have to get out of here!" she urged. She was in her nightgown, with no shoes upon her feet, and her wand in her hand.

"I didn't get the book back from him!" Draco said, looking down at the floor as he noticed two large boys laying at his feet. He smiled and said, "Mulciber and Avery, I presume?"

"I didn't actually ask them for a formal introduction before I stunned them," Hermione groaned. She took his hand and began to run.

"The book!" he yelped again.

She held up her free hand. In it were her wand, and a small black book. He wanted to kiss her right about now, but he would continue to run instead. They ran and ran, all throughout the school, she in her bare feet, until they reached a side door exit of the school. Draco lifted the latch, took off his jacket, placed it hastily around her shoulders, and they ran outside.

When they were safely away from the school, they sat down by a little inlet of trees. She shivered and placed her arms inside the sleeves of his school jacket. Her feet were frozen, bloodied, and raw. He knelt before her, slipped off his shoes and socks. Taking one of her feet in his hand, he rubbed his fingers lightly over a large gash on the bottom of her foot.

Her breathing was irregular, due to running, but also from the fact that he was being so sweet and tender with her. She felt desire course through her as he lifted her foot and said a healing spell. The large gash closed before their eyes. He ran his index finger over the faint, pink line. She felt a tingling from her foot up to her belly.

"How did you find me?" he asked as he lifted her other foot. He placed it in his lap and examined it closely.

"I woke up right after you left and I merely followed you. You promised you would stay with me, but I thought you might go looking for Riddle, to get the book, because you promised that you would do that, as well."

The second foot was healed, but he kept it in his grip. He rubbed it, massaged it, as he examined her. With a smile he said, "Yes, I'm a man who keeps his promises."

She rolled her eyes. "No, you're a moron who tries to do too much by yourself," she labored. She tried to remove her foot from his grasp, but he held on tight. He kept his left hand on her foot, his thumb rubbing the inside, his hand on the bottom, and his fingers on the top. He dropped his wand from his right hand, and placed his right hand upon her ankle. He let it drift slowly, softly, up her calf, on the underside. When he reached the back of her knee, she froze.

Then, he brought her foot up closer to his face and he placed a kiss on the inside arch. It was one of the most erotic things anyone had ever done to her. Through hazy eyes, he said, "There. Cleaned and all healed." Dropping her leg to the ground, he rolled his socks upon her feet, placed his own feet back in his shoes, and added, "I think it's time we go home."

"But we didn't do anything here. I know I'm the one that said we should go home earlier, but now I don't know if we should. We probably changed more than before, after that little stunt. If we leave now, what will Riddle do to Harriet and Cygnus? If he tried to hurt her before, now he might try to kill her, after what I did, when I saved you."

Draco felt exasperated. He stood quickly, paced in front of her, and said, "I LIED, OKAY? Practically everything you ever learned about The First Stone was a lie! I've known the truth all along! We could have come back here and changed everything, and when we left, it would have been be as if we never came. The only thing we could do by coming back to this time was to see how the stone was used. We couldn't have changed anything if we wanted to, and we haven't changed the future one iota! Everything that's happened to us since we got here, everything that's occurred to us as Harriet and Cygnus, will pass away, as if it never transpired!"

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, struggling to stand. Once she was standing, she grasped his arm and said, "Tell me what you mean!"

"Yes, Black, tell us both what you mean," said a voice behind them. Draco whipped around, placing Hermione behind his body. There in front of them stood a very angry Tom Riddle. He was holding both of their wands, which he must have picked up from the forest floor.

However, those were Harriet and Cygnus' wands. Draco and Hermione didn't need them. Draco had the book and Hermione had the amulet around her neck. Without answering, Draco reached behind him, held fast to Hermione's hand, and said the incantation that Hermione had used weeks before to bring them to this time.

They left Tom Riddle, and the 1940's, behind them in a foggy haze. It felt as if they were twirling and flying through space, out of control.

When they stopped, Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at a clear blue sky. She was flat on her back. A face hovered over her, and a boy who looked just like Harry Potter, except he didn't have a scar, and his eyes were a different shape and colour, said, "Goodness, Evans, you scared the daylights out of us, didn't she Sirius? I've been trying to wake you forever!"

Hermione blinked twice as the face of a young Sirius Black came into view, blocking the bright light of the sun from her eyes. She shook her head, to clear the cobwebs, and she swore Sirius 'winked' at her.

Wait…did that other boy call her 'Evans'? She got up on her elbows and looked around. She was lying on a blanket by the Black Lake. Nearby was James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black, who was still smiling at her. One might even say he was 'smirking' at her, as he held up a black book and then stuffed it in his pocket.

Hermione sighed, lay back down, and closed her eyes. No way was this real. No way.


	10. Chapter 10

**All characters belong to JKRowling**

**Chapter 10 - Love Thy Neighbour as Thyself**

_She realized she was still alive as soon as she opened her eyes and saw the bright lights above her. This was supposed to work. She gave her life so that her daughter could live, yet she was still alive. No. The First Stone didn't work. Malfoy must have lied about the magic, just as he lied about everything else._

WAIT, Hermione couldn't believe any of this was real. Two weeks ago, she was eight months pregnant, seeing her children off to school. Draco Malfoy knocked on her door. He told her that their spouses were cheating with each other. That in itself was enough to make her wish that it were imaginary.

THEN, she took an ancient amulet, given to her by Malfoy, and together they traveled back in time to the 1940's to a time when Lord Voldemort was plain, old, evil, spooky Tom Riddle.

AFTER THAT, everything she ever thought and believed and even READ about The First Stone turned out to be false, meaning, for goodness sakes, that _books_ had lied to her! The whole time they were in the past she was afraid of changing things when the reality was that everything that happened was already assured, be it providence or good old-fashioned serendipity. She couldn't change anything at all! She could merely observe things as they occurred the first time.

BECAUSE, apparently The First Stone wasn't what she thought, and couldn't be used as she thought, and frankly, she no longer wanted to think about IT or anything, EVER AGAIN! At this point, Hermione didn't care. Her new attitude was blithe and laissez-faire. For instance, she wasn't even fazed by the fact that she was on her back, on the ground, with a bunch of DEAD people (presently young and alive) around her, although she did have a slight twinge of a headache.

ALSO, she missed her home, some of her family, her friends, and she couldn't help but think that in another two weeks her baby was due to be born. Yep, she might just keep her eyes closed and never open them again.

"Did she pass out?" Remus Lupin asked. He knelt beside her and lifted her wrist to take her pulse. Hermione remained passive and supine and kept her eyes closed. Let them think she was unconscious. It bought her some time.

"I don't think so. She opened her eyes a moment ago," James prodded. He patted her cheek and said, "Evans? Please, open your eyes again."

"Perhaps we should douse her with water," Pettigrew offered.

Someone stood directly over her. The warmth of the sun was gone again. This person knelt by her head, brushed her bangs back from her face, and leaning so close that she felt the roughness of his cheek against hers, said with a whisper in her ear, "Open your eyes, Granger. It's me, Malfoy." Then, announcing to the spectators, "I think she's faking. Wakey, wakey, Fakey Evans."

She opened first her left eye, then her right. Staring down at her was a very young, very good looking, Sirius Black, but behind those hazel eyes, she knew lurked Draco Malfoy. She almost wanted to cry. Gone in an instance was her newfound blasé attitude, replaced with her regular, uptight, 'must make everything right', attitude. Indeed, everyone who stood, lay, or knelt upon the blanket was dead in her time, and that caused her present unencumbered silence to turn to all out alarm.

She sat up suddenly, sprang from the blanket, and backed away from the small crowd of boys. Her hand went in front of her and she ordered, "Stay away, everyone. I need some air."

"I thought you were merely napping, but did you hit your head?" James asked with concern. He stood and approached her. She held out her other hand as well.

"I mean it, Potter," she warned. "I really, really, really need some time alone to think! Oh my golly, goodness, but you do look so very much like him."

"Who?" James asked.

Hermione closed her eyes once more and said, "I thought the 1940's were bad, but I don't think I can handle this. Maybe if I open my eyes really fast, I'll find out it's all a dream and they'll all go away." She opened her eyes quickly. She stared into four faces, two that looked at her with concern, one who looked at her with fear, and one who was SMIRKING at her!

"Really?" Draco asked with an amused look on his face. "Do you really think I'm a dream? I have been told I'm dream worthy."

Remus smacked Sirius' arm and said, "Leave it, Sirius. Don't make fun at the moment." Draco gave Remus a dirty look in return, but Remus wasn't paying him any mind. Instead, he bent down, picked up the blanket and what she assumed were Lily's books and said, "I'll take these inside for you, Lily. Why don't you take a walk before the Quidditch game and clear your head."

Hermione nodded. She started to turn from the boys when James called back toward her, "Evans?"

With a tone that was shorter than she meant it to be, she snapped, "WHAT?"

"I just hope you do feel better, that's all, and I do hope you come to the game. I know you don't like Quidditch that much, or me for that matter, at least not very much, but, well, anyway, I hope you're feeling better." He smiled and held up his hand to wave goodbye. Hermione felt a wave of nostalgia hit her hard, laced with overpowering depression. James Potter. So incredibly handsome. Popular, smart, and kind, so like Harry. She missed Harry so much. She nodded and stumbled away from them and walked quickly in the direction of the Black Lake.

She looked down at what she was wearing and noted nothing special, faded denims, and a crewneck jumper. She couldn't tell what year she was in, but she knew Harry's parents didn't start to date, or even like each other, until around seventh year. She didn't know the day, let alone the date. Once again, she felt so lost and despondent.

Looking back, she wondered if Sirius, aka Draco, would seek her out later. She felt better knowing he had the book and that she had the amulet. At that thought, she felt around her neck, and then gasped. With her thumb, she pulled out the collar of the light blue, crewneck jumper and looked down at the white oxford blouse underneath. No amulet. Feeling underneath the white cotton shirt by unbuttoning the top two buttons, she felt around her bare skin and was filled with distress! She had lost The First Stone.

Where was it? Had they somehow left it in the 1940's? Did Tom Riddle have it? Would it matter, if he couldn't use it? It was the magic of the book that was transporting them from era to era, letting them relive things, vicariously as it was, not the stone. Still, she had it on her neck when she first said the incantation to leave her time two weeks ago – she had it on her neck when they left Tom Riddle's clutches moments ago – so where was it now?

She stumbled back over to where she first awoke and found nothing but a patch of grass pressed to the earth from the blanket that Remus had folded and taken inside. On bended knees, she felt around the solid earth, hoping her hands might discover what her eyes could not. She had to find that stone.

"Are you looking for something, Lily?"

A slightly familiar voice broke her from her task and she looked up into the much younger face of yet another person who in her time was dead. A person, who in her time, she had felt was never given the proper respect and credit that he deserved, especially by her. She looked up into the face of Severus Snape and without credit or consequence she started to cry.

She sat back on her bum, hung her head, pulled her knees to her chin, and cried. She would blame it on her pregnancy hormones, but she was currently Lily Evans, who wasn't pregnant at all.

Snape looked around quickly, to see if anyone was watching. Then he stood over her and said, "What's wrong with you? Did Potter or Black say something unkind to you? I saw them lurking around you just now. Potter is always around you, saying unkind things, doing unkind deeds. Tell me, did he say something malicious or cruel?"

She shook her head no, hiding her eyes. Where was Draco? Where was The First Stone? Where were LIVE people? She no sooner had that thought when she realized that SHE was in a DEAD person, too. She cried harder and realized that she simply had to leave here immediately!

He tentatively reached a hand toward her, pulled it back, and then reached toward her again. He dropped to his knees and stroked her hair, shocking her. She looked up and cried hardest yet, dropping her face back to her knees again.

"Is this about what I said to you earlier?" he asked, his hand resting on the crown of her head, and then stroking down her hair slowly, easily, before starting it all over again.

Finding solace and comfort in his ministrations, Hermione answered honestly, "I don't know," while wondering what he had said to Lily earlier.

He drew back his hand, sat beside her and pulled on a blade of glass between his legs. With a sigh he said, "I told you things would probably be different this year. Hell, things have been different and strained for us since we started school, and you were sorted into Gryffindor and I was sorted into Slytherin."

She moved her face so that only her left cheek rested on her knees, she hiccupped and let out a long sob and nodded. Harry had relayed that Lily and Snape had been childhood friends, best friends, much like she and Harry, but that once they started school, their friendship became strained, then waned, then altogether disappeared. Only years later did they discover that Snape had loved Lily all the days of his life. It was so tragic. Just the mere thought of it caused Hermione to cry again. She wiped at her eyes with both hands and continued to sob.

He patted her back and said, "I am so sorry, Lily. I know things are hard right now, with the attacked against Muggle-borns, and the constant threats from Death Eaters, but I don't want you to worry, Lily. I wish I could tell you things will get better, but I don't think they will. I think they'll only get worse, but I'll try very hard to keep you safe."

"And who's going to keep you safe? You're going to get in deeper and deeper over your head," she declared. She made that declaration as an adult Hermione Granger, in a teenage Lily Evan's body, which had more of an impact on him, because the expression on his face seemed as if she had physically struck him. He recoiled back, dropped his hand from her back, and winced.

"That's none of your concern! I can take care of myself!" He stood up and said, "See, this was what I meant. This is why we can't be friends any longer! You're constantly telling me that my friends are up to no good, but I can't see that you keep any better company, with those stupid Marauders, or whatever they call themselves, constantly nipping at your heels."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but he continued, "Yes, I know, you act as if you can't even stand them, especially Potter, but I can't help but think you like the attention they give you. He's the most popular boy in school, and he fancies you, you know that!"

"What's that to you?" she said before she thought better.

"It's nothing. Moreover, to think, I was almost going to apologize for calling you a Mudblood earlier, because I thought that might be why you were crying, but now I know you're probably crying over something Potter said to you. My calling you a Mudblood hardly signifies does it, especially since THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE!" he hissed the last part in a haughty, tone that Hermione was all too familiar.

He said it with the arrogant, sarcastic attitude of the 'Professor Snape' who had never shown Harry, Ron or Hermione any kindness growing up. The tone of the only teacher that ever taught at Hogwarts that seemed to hate Hermione Granger. At the time, Hermione never knew why. Hermione had_ hated _him for that. Later, when he died and she learned of all his sacrifices, she _hated_ herself for _hating _him. Right now, however, she HATED that she was left with feelings of guilt for hating him. There had truly been an ugliness in him at this very moment, right here, right now, as he so easily called someone he presumably cared about such a horrific name. She could not believe how easily he used that word, and how easily he would hurt a friend.

She stood beside him, wiped the remaining tears from her face with the sleeve of her jumper and with her head held high she said, "Someday you're going to regret calling me that. I don't wish that regret on you, but it will come just the same. I think the fact that you've called me that will end up hurting you much more than it will ever hurt me, Severus Snape. Believe me when I tell you, there are going to be a great many things that you will regret in your life, but your betrayal of me will be one of the biggest."

She started to storm off toward the school when he called her name. She stopped walking, but refused to turn back toward him. She waited as he walked toward her, and recoiled inside when he stood by her back. Waiting for the onslaught of words, she was shocked when instead she saw his hand in front of her face, his arm stretched straight before her.

"Here," he said, holding something by a chain in front of her face. She looked right at The First Stone. "I don't need this silly stone you gave me. I'll be fine at my first Death Eater meeting without it. I don't need you, or some silly stone for protection. I will take the Dark Mark tonight with pride. I don't need you for anything. I have my true friends, and that's all I'll ever need."

She whipped around to face him, her eyes wide, mouth open, about to protest, but he took her wrist, opened her hand, and placed the stone inside it. "Believe me, Evans, when I tell you that I regret nothing, nor do I intend to regret anything, especially anything in regards to you." Still holding her wrist, he pushed it toward her side and ended with, "Take it back, Evans. Give it to Potter or someone else. Someone who gives a damn, someone who gives a damn about you!" He stormed away, black robes billowing behind him.

She stared at the ruby amulet in her hand horror-struck. Turning, she ran directly into the chest of Sirius Black. Forgetting for a moment that it was Draco, she let out a little scream. He looked as shocked as she was. Clutching the stone tightly in her hand, she buried her head in his chest. He placed his arms around her and cooed softly, "What's wrong, Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I think I might have killed Severus Snape," she said. She held up the stone and showed it to him. "I know you told me before we got here that we can't change things from the past, but Lily must have given this to him, to protect him. He's going to his first Death Eater's meeting, and something bad must happen to him there, because he had the stone the first time and survived, but now he gave the stone back to me, or Lily rather. He's going to take the Dark Mark tonight! What if he dies because he gave it back to me, just now, in anger?"

He looked around, made certain no one was watching, and pulled her closer to the lake. He brushed the back of his knuckles against her face and said, "You silly little thing. I started to tell you that I lied about the uses of the First Stone, but Tom Riddle interrupted us. We can't change the past. We can only relive it, I already told you that part, but there's more. You see, even if he gave it back to her, in anger, or pride, the first time, that doesn't matter. It doesn't have to be in his possession to work. It only had to be given to him in the name of love, and as long as Lily still possesses the stone, he'll be alright. More to the point, we might be here a while and you can find a way to give it back to him, if you wish."

"How do you know all of this?" Hermione beseeched. "How do you know Lily gave this to him out of love? What does that have to do with anything?"

He didn't want to explain all of this to her right now. She looked so sad, so despondent, but he had to tell her the truth. He said, very quickly, hoping he would only have to say it once, "Okay, here's the truth, as much as I hate to reveal it. The real use of the stone is to protect a woman or man from imminent death, if used by someone that loves them. It doesn't need to be in the possession of the person who's facing death, such as the case with Cygnus and Harriet, but I think it helps." He knew when he used it twenty-two years ago for Hermione, he kept the stone.

She was glaring at him as if he had two heads. "No, Draco. I know more about the stone than you do, because I've had the secret book all these years. First love has nothing to do with The First Stone."

"It has absolutely everything to do with it, sweetheart," he said with a sigh. He pulled her out to a small dock, urged her to sit, and sat beside her. "Some of what we know of The First Stone, some of the stories are real. The magic can only be used once for each possessor of the stone."

People can go back in time to see how it was used, and as I found out, the power of three means we can only see the last three times it was used, but we can't change an event unless the particular event pertained to us. You're the current possessor of the stone, I mean as Hermione Granger, not Lily Evans, so the only thing you could possibly change from the past is if the stone was used to save your life during one of those three times."

He gave her time to digest this new information. She stared at him numbly. He held her hands, rubbing them in his own, and decided that her new 'muteness' might be a good sign, and it was advantageous for him to continue before she spoke again, and cursed his arse to kingdom come.

"Slytherin's counter curse, when Ravenclaw made it, was that only someone with his blood could undo the magic of the stone, willy-nilly, or I mean, any of the past events. That means only a Slytherin heir could stop an event, any event, during the lifetime of the stone. Those are the only ways the stones can be used to alter the past, to stop a person's own event from occurring, or if someone with Slytherin blood, like Voldemort, had used it, which I suspect he knew of, or he wouldn't have wanted it so badly. No one else can change a thing from the past, as you thought, or were led to believe."

She looked at their clasped hands. Her left hand still held the stone. She pulled it from his and opened her palm to stare down at the large amulet. "How are we sure that it was used for Snape during this time? We can't possibly go with him to a Death Eater meeting, and it didn't seem to me that there was any love between Lily and Snape, so how do we know it was used out of love? Perhaps Sirius used it instead, I mean, how else would it have come to be in your family?"

"I know it was used by Snape. It was in my family, because Snape was the one who gave it to my mother when I was a little boy. He was the one who told me how to use it. It only appeared in its true form to my mother and me. My father never knew it existed as part of our legacy. I don't know how Lily Evans came by the stone before Snape had it, but I know Snape was the last person to have it before me."

She was finally starting to comprehend. She felt a wave coldness hit her, and she licked her dry lips and closed her eyes. Holding the stone tightly in her grip, she said, "And you said you had already used the stone once, right?"

He hesitated before he answered, "Yes."

"And you just told me that the stone can only be used to save a person's first love?" she asked for clarification.

"First love or true love, rather," he said. "However, Snape was the one to give it to me, when I was a boy, so that I could use it to save my first love, so yes, that's how I used it." He didn't want her to know that he had used the stone on her, but now he was going to have no choice but to tell her, because the next question was out of her mouth almost as soon as he thought she would ask it.

"And who was your first love? On whom did you use the magic of The First Stone?" she asked, with wide-eyed innocence. That looked suited the face of the sixteen year old Lily Evans.

He wanted to see the face of the woman he loved when he said the next part, so he said the revealing spell again, so that at least _to his eyes_, she would look like Hermione Granger, and then he answered, "Goodness, Granger, you have to know, don't you? It was you. It was always you."


	11. Chapter 11

**All characters belong to JKRowling**

**Chapter 11 – Love is Patient, Love is Kind **

_Tears flowed from her eyes as she realized that she failed. Her daughter was still dead, she was still alive, and nothing would change that. Nothing. She took The First Stone from her neck, held it in her fist, and then threw it against the wall, where it hit hard and then fell to the ground, at the same time that she crumbled to the ground next to it. She didn't want to live in a world that didn't have __Rose__ in it. She wouldn't. Then she remembered something…someone else had said the exact same thing. Perhaps HE could save her daughter._

Hermione, as Lily Evans, had just asked Draco, as Sirius Black, how he knew that Lily had used The First Stone for Snape and not for Sirius or James, when Draco answered, "I know it was used for Snape. It was in my family, because Snape was the one who gave it to my mother when I was a little boy. He was the one who told me how to use it. It only appeared in its true form to my mother and me. My father never knew it existed as part of our legacy. I don't know how Lily Evans came by the stone before Snape had it, but I know Snape was the last person to have it before me."

Hermione was finally starting to comprehend the complex story and the string of lies and fables behind the mystical, magic object in her hand. She licked her dry lips and closed her eyes as she held the stone tightly in her grip. "And you said you had already used the stone once, right?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted him to confirm it.

He hesitated before he answered. "Yes."

"And you just told me that the stone can only be used to save a person's first love?" she asked for further elucidation.

"First love or true love, rather," he answered. "However, Snape was the one to give it to me, when I was a boy, so that I could use it to save my first love, so yes, that's how I used it." He had used the stone on her, twenty-two years ago, when she was supposed to die at Malfoy Manor, after his aunt had tortured her, and he knew that he was finally going to have to admit this to her. It was time.

"And who was your first love? On whom did you use the magic of The First Stone?" she asked, with the wide-eyed innocence of a girl that looked every bit like a sixteen-year-old Lily Evans, instead of a thirty-eight-year-old Hermione Granger. But before he finally admitted to the woman that he loved that he DID love her, he wanted to look HER in the eyes, so he said the revealing spell that he had used on her previously so that she would appear as herself, at least to him, and then he answered, "Goodness, Granger, you have to know, don't you? It was you. It was always you."

She began to shake all over. She stood quickly and stumbled backwards. He stood just as quickly and reached for her, in case she fell backwards into the lake. Hermione took a wand from her pocket, and he flinched away, thinking she might hex him. However, she merely said the same incantation that he said, to reveal 'Draco Malfoy' to her eyes only.

He smiled at her and decided to forge onward, saying, "I love you, Hermione. I always have and I always will." He opened his arms wide to receive her.

She pulled back her fist and punched him in the nose. He fell backwards into the cold water with a loud splash. When he bobbed back above water she said, "You could have told me that a long time ago and saved all of us a lot of heartache and pain, you stupid idiot!"

She ran down the dock and out of sight. A few students ran over toward the water to help him out, asking questions such as, "What did you say to Evans?" and "What did you do this time, Black?"

His hand went to his injured nose, which wasn't broken, but was bleeding nonetheless, even as he was pulled up to the planks of the dock. He sat there and watched her until she turned into a small dot, and continued to watch even as she disappeared completely. All of his life he imagined what would happen if he told (or when he told) Hermione Granger that he loved her. Never in a million years did he think that she would hit him…just as she had hit him when they were children. That time was merely a slap. This time was a punch in the nose.

Well.

Yes. Well.

Hermione ran until she reached the castle. She ran until she was out of breath. She ran until her lungs felt on fire, until her ribs hurt, and until her heart felt as if it might burst from her chest. Draco Malfoy loved her! He had loved her for most of their lives! She didn't know what to think of that! She needed to be alone to sort through her jumbled thoughts.

She walked around the far end of the school, toward the courtyard, only to stop outside the outer wall at the sight of Snape, who stood there with two other boys whom she didn't know. They were speaking in low tones. She turned to go, quietly, but one of them noticed.

"What do you want, Mudblood?" one of the boys called out to her.

She turned back. "I don't want anything with you," she answered quickly, the words coming out in short bursts. It was only then that she realized tears were falling down her face. Tears she was sure were from indignation and righteous anger. Anger that was from hearing that word, with her situation, and with the world in general, but mostly anger from the fact that Draco Malfoy had loved her all these years yet he was too much of a coward to tell her until now.

"Why is the little Mudblood crying, Avery?" a taller boy asked the first boy and Snape. Snape swallowed hard, but stood rooted in his spot. "Did someone kill your Mummy and Daddy, Muddy? It's liable to happen, you know. Are you crying because you know you're an abomination and a sin against nature?"

"Let's go, gentlemen," Snape urged, and turned to go.

The one called Avery, the first boy who spoke, walked toward her and said, "I think you're right, Mulciber. I think she's crying because she knows she's inferior, although she always walks around here thinking she's better than everyone else." He reached out, touched a strand of her long, ginger hair, and then pressed her up against the stone wall with his body. She reached for her wand, but he was too quick, and he pulled it from her hand and threw it on the ground.

Snape took a step closer, but didn't intervene. The taller boy stood behind Avery and smiled from behind his shoulder and said, "My father said Mudblood's are only good for two things. Can you guess what one of the things is, Evans?"

Hermione's eyes went to Snape. She wondered how far he would let this go. Even if he no longer 'loved' Lily, (though supposedly he loved her until the day he died), and even though he felt angry with her for loving someone else, surely he wouldn't let these boys hurt her, or molest her, would he?

"This is hardly worth our time or effort!" Snape snapped, trying to defuse the situation. "We are late as it is, and I hardly think we want to be late for our first meeting. Lucius Malfoy is only agreeing to sponsor you to at my bequest, but if we're late, believe me, he'll be too embarrassed to say anything positive on your behalf, especially when I tell him the reason we were late was because you wanted to soil yourself by dallying with a Mudblood."

Avery kept his body against Lily's (Hermione's) and said to Snape, "A Mudblood, who used to be your best friend, isn't that right, Severus? Aren't you, perhaps, speaking a bit because of nostalgia? Old times sake, and all that rubbish? On the other hand, perhaps you want her for yourself, is that it? If that's it, say so, old man. Just say so."

Just then, Draco came upon the group. He immediately pulled out his wand. To Snape and the other 'black-clad' youths he appeared as a young Sirius Black. He shouted, "What's going on over there? Are you having a party and forgot to invite me? For shame, Snapey-poo."

His bravado wasn't ALL for show. In truth, he knew he was really a grown man who knew more about magic (especially 'dark magic') than these upstart, beginner Death Eaters. Also, if Hermione had her wand, (instead of it being on the ground) he knew NONE of them would have a chance against her, but still, he would act cautiously, as it was still three against one at the moment, and Draco never liked playing with odds stacked against him.

He twirled his wand and winked at Hermione. "You forgot to tell me goodbye when you pushed me in the lake, Evans," he said.

Avery and Mulciber walked away from Hermione, leaving her slouching against the wall. Draco bent down, picked up her wand, and handed it to her. Snape looked from Hermione's face to Draco's wet clothing and suddenly he said, "Avery, Mulciber, go. Start walking toward the forest without me. I'll catch up in a minute. I have a thing or two to say to Black and Evans."

The two Slytherins laughed and Mulciber said, "Oh, let us stay, Severus. This should be good. I'd love to hear what you have to say to the likes of him."

Snape glared at the other two, but they only continued to laugh and walked off toward the forest without him. He waited until they were out of sight and then he went up to Hermione and said, "What happened? Why is Black's nose bloodied, his clothes wet, and why were you crying again? I thought it was Potter who had upset you earlier, but was it him?" He leaned toward her, closer yet, his body angled so that 'Sirius' could not see him speaking to her and he whispered lowly, "I know we argued earlier, Lily. I am so very sorry. And I do regret calling you Mudblood, and please, know that I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I would have stopped them, I swear. If it had gone too far, I would have. You can trust me. Please, tell me, what did he do?"

Without knowing why, she placed her arms around his neck, as if he were her 'dear old friend'. Perhaps it was because she was so very weary and she needed a hug. Perhaps it was because she thought HE needed a hug. Perhaps it was because everything had been too much to bear since Draco and Hermione started their journey through the past. Perhaps it was all of the above, but whatever the reason she placed her arms around his neck, and to her surprise, Draco's chagrin, and Snape's astonishment, she said in a whisper, (yet they all could hear), "He told me that he loved me so I hit him on the nose and he fell into the lake."

Snape wrapped his left arm around her waist, turned her around in his arms so that he was facing Sirius Black, and he pulled out his wand. Draco, who still had his wand in his hand, pointed it back toward his 'godfather' in shock.

"WHAT?" Snape asked, taken aback. Draco's eyes were wide in bewilderment as well. Why in the world would Hermione confess such a thing to Snape, especially as to him, they appeared as Lily and Sirius? Had she gone bonkers?

Hermione had had enough of this time. She really, really wanted to go home. She pushed away from Snape, turned around toward Draco, and asked, "Wait a minute, when did you use The First Stone on me? When was I supposed to have died?"

Draco looked upwards toward the bright, blue sky and said, "For cripes sakes, Granger, or Evans, or whatever the hell your name is, can we discuss all the particulars later? Perhaps when a certain someone isn't pointing a wand at me, or even better, EVANS," and he accentuated her name, "perhaps when we're alone and at liberty to speak freely, if you know what I mean? I seriously think you're becoming unglued!"

"Of course I am!" she shouted back. Snape placed an arm back around her shoulders and pointed his wand back toward Draco, who pointed his wand back toward Snape.

"What's happening here?" a very level voice asked from behind Draco. It was James Potter. He walked up to the trio, slowly, his own wand dangling slightly from his left hand, then his right, then his left again. He affected an air of nonchalance, but his eyes held a host of other emotions. He looked at Hermione, whom he saw as Lily Evans, the girl whom he had loved for years, in the arms of the boy he had hated for just as long. Then he saw the same boy pointing a wand at another boy, whom he thought of as a brother.

He looked at Sirius and said, "You've bled upon your nicest jumper, Padfoot, although, it's sort of wet, so perhaps it's not your nicest one any longer. No matter, you need to go change into your Quidditch robes. It's almost time for the game."

"Yes, well, someone's pointing a wand at me at the moment, Potter, so I don't think I can do that right now," Draco answered as Sirius.

"Oh yes, I see your dilemma, I really do," James continued, "Conversely, you're not getting out of the game that easily." He looked over at Hermione and said, "Excuse me, just saw you there, Evans. Looks as if you've been crying again. Having a nasty day, aren't you? Of course, I'd cry too, if Snape's arm was around me."

"Go away, Potter," Hermione said with no real malicious intent, however, she moved away from Snape's arm. She turned to face Snape, pulled on the front of his robes, and ushered him over toward the stone wall, away from the other boys. She said to him, "I'm fine now, Severus." It felt odd for her to say his first name. She smiled at him and then taking a chance, she reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the amulet. "I would really, really like you to take this with you today. Please. It's important to me."

"Lily, I know all about the magic of this stone. You and I read about it together. It won't work for me, even if I were in danger, because it has to be given by your first love, you know that." Snape blushed as he said this, and then looked over his shoulder to see Potter and Black still standing close, trying hard to hear his and Lily's conversation.

Hermione had no clue 'why' or 'how' Lily gave Snape the stone the first time. She didn't know the way the young girl felt for her former best friend at the time she gave him the stone. She only knew that Lily HAD given it to him, so Hermione wanted to be sure to give it to him, even if Draco said that it wasn't important that Snape be in possession of the stone for its power to work. She also knew that HER stone would travel with her throughout this madcap adventure, but Snape had to have this stone now in order for him to have the stone later, to give to Draco, so that Draco could someday save her life.

Then a thought hit her, and it hit her hard. If Snape had the stone, years later, to give it to Draco, and if Lily was Snape's first (only?) love, why didn't he ever use it to try to save her from Voldemort?

Perhaps that would be Snape's biggest regret. She didn't know. She only knew that she wanted to give it to him now. She didn't wait for Snape to respond, she took the amulet in both hands, reached up, and placed it over his neck, and then she stood on tiptoes, placed her hands on his chest, and kissed his cheek.

"Good luck, Severus. I know you have to do what you have to do, and I know it's not going to be easy. I won't hold anything against you, I swear, and I realize that we can no longer be friends, at least, not in the open, but you'll always be my best friend in my heart, and I'll always love you. You may not be my last love, but you were my first love. I know that to be true."

He looked on the verge of pain, as if he wanted to say something in return, but instead he merely nodded as he cupped her jaw, leaned forward, kissed her cheek, and said, "I'll try to always protect you, if I can, Lily."

He ran toward the forest, his black robes bellowing behind him unceremoniously, Hermione watching until he was completely out of sight.

Then she turned toward the others. James Potter looked crushed, but he tried hard not to show it. He walked up to her and said, "I know you and Snape were once great friends. I didn't know you were still close."

"Not that it's your concern," she said softly, "but I don't believe the word 'close' would describe our relationship any longer. We were once friends and now we aren't. Our friendship has ended."

"You kissed him, and he kissed you back," he said pointedly. "I didn't hear what you said to each other, but I saw you."

"Yes, well, we were more or less saying goodbye," she explained. She glanced over her shoulder toward Draco. He was still standing with his wand in hand, though his hand was now resting near his hip, his wand pointing toward the ground. She pointed her wand toward Draco, dried him in a second, and healed his nose quickly as well. James glanced over his shoulder, too.

"Right," Draco said, not knowing what else he could say with James Potter so close. "Thanks."

Hermione heaved a sigh, glanced back toward the boy in front of her and said, "Aren't you going to be late for the meet? I'll be along shortly. I promise. I'll come to the meet today, and watch the entire thing. I might even shout out for you, Potter." Then she reached for James' hand and gave it a tight squeeze. This boy loved this girl, and she had to remember that. They were Harry's parents. That thought made her sad and happy at the same time.

He smiled at her, all feelings of ambiguity gone from him, and he continued to smile even as he started to run toward the Quidditch pitch. He turned around and shouted, "Hurry up, Padfoot, and come down to the pitch! Evans is going to watch the game, don't you know, and I'm sure you don't want to be late!" He turned back around and continued to run all the way down the path.

Hermione walked up to Draco, placed a hand on his chest and mumbled, "I'm so sorry I hit you, once again."

"You really do have a propensity toward violence, don't you know? A real history of it, one might even say. I should have known you would have reacted that way," he said with lazy charm. He smiled at her and placed his warm hand over her cold one, trapping it on his chest.

"Tell me the story of how you saved my life before, please, and also, when did you ever love me?" she beckoned.

"I'll be late for the game," he pleaded as an excused. He didn't want to relive the day he saved her, even to explain it to her, and he loved her still, but should he admit that to her again, when he had already said it? He wanted to tell her everything, yet he didn't even know where to begin.

For that reason, he kissed her instead.

Pulling her toward him with his hands firmly on her upper arms, her felt her breasts pressing against his chest even through the layers of their clothing. Her head tilted upwards naturally and her lips opened slightly, and without another thought, his lips moved naturally over hers, firmly, lusciously, in a rhythm and with a purpose of which he had always assumed would be inherent, but which actually seemed premeditated and intentional.

Her lips opened more under his and he felt as if she was the only woman he was ever meant to kiss. He moaned slightly when their tongues glided together, because it was exquisite and even as his tongue stroked and teased hers, she seemed to meld to him, and he to her.

He drew from her well, he took all that she offered, he wanted more, and he angle his head, adjusted hers with his hands in her hair, and began to deepen this kiss even more when he heard the sound of someone called his name, or rather, "Sirius," from behind them.

"Sirius!" the boy hissed again, "stop it right now! How could you!"

Hermione and Draco parted, though he kept his arms around her, which was good, because her legs felt weak and numb. He tucked her head, protectively, to his chest, looked at the person who had just admonished him, and saw that it was none other than Remus Lupin.

"Go away, Lupin," Draco warned. "This isn't your concern."

Hermione groaned into Draco's chest when she heard the word 'Lupin', her hands bunched into his sweater. She lifted her head slowly, looked into the compassionate face of Remus Lupin, expecting to find disappointment upon it, but instead she found concern. He reached over for her, holding his hand out. She placed her hand within it, letting him draw her to him, away from Draco.

"Was this why you were crying earlier, when you were studying by the tree, on the grass? Did Sirius do or say something to you? Why were you kissing? Do you have feelings for him? Please, tell me if you do, because, Lily, you have to know how James feels about you, you have to!" He squeezed her hand firmly during his brief speech and volunteered, "He loves you. I know you often act aloof and as if you can't stand him, but I seriously thought that was all an act. I thought you had _some _feelings for him! If you don't, then tell me now, so I can try to smooth things over with him."

All Hermione could think was, 'Poor Remus Lupin.' He was always everyone's friend, and he always wanted to do everything within his power to make everyone around him happy. At least, that was the only thing she WANTED to think of…she didn't want to think about Snape and the Death Eaters. She didn't want to think of the fact that in her time every single one of the Marauders was dead. She didn't want to think about the fact that the girl in whom she had leaped was dead as well and that in her short time here she had already gotten to know Harry's parents better than he would ever know them. She REALLY didn't want to think about the fact that her baby was almost due, and that she missed her son and daughter at home. She didn't want to think about her husband's infidelities.

Most of all, she didn't want to think about the fact that Draco Malfoy had told her that she was the first woman that he had ever loved, that he loved her still, and MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL, she didn't want to think about the fact that the kiss they had just shared was the best kiss of her entire life.

Therefore, she concentrated on the young (and still alive) Remus Lupin, squeezed his hand tighter, and said, "Nothing's going on between Sirius Black and me. I swear that is the honest truth, now, let's go watch this game together, shall we?" She didn't mind saying those words aloud, because it was the truth. She didn't love Sirius Black.

However, as she and Remus walked hand-in-hand down the well-worn path toward the Quidditch pitch, she realized that although she told Remus the absolute, positively, honest truth when she said that she DID NOT love Sirius Black, that did not mean that she did not love Draco Malfoy.

Because she did.


	12. Chapter 12

**All characters belong to JKRowling**

**Chapter 12 – No Greater Gift**

_She found him right where his grandfather told her he would be, by her daughter's grave. Even after a year, he seemed so sad, so lost, so broken. He was so young. He was as young as __Draco__was when he first fell in love with her. He was the same age __Draco__ was when he used the stone on her the first time. _

_She wished there was a way she could give the stone to him so that he could save HIS first love – so that he could save __Rose__…but how? Could he go back? The magic of the stone would only permit those who had last used the stone to go back, and even then, those who went back couldn't change things._

_Perhaps it was hopeless. She turned to leave. When her back was facing him, she heard him say, "__Mrs.__Weasley__? What are you doing here?"_

_She turned back to him and said, "Scorpius, I have a favour to ask of you, and I also have something I need to give to you." She held out her hand. It contained The First Stone._

_He nodded and said, "I've been waiting for you to come to me for a very long time. I couldn't come to you, you see. You had to come to me. Have you ever heard of this incantation?" He paused, and then repeated a phrase his father taught him long ago:_

_"A Stone to be carried, deep in your heart,_

_Will defeat the death of any man._

_For love that is pure, death cannot impart,_

_A future of pain and suffering._

_Use it once, but not in vain,_

_To defeat death and its final say,_

_But if thou uses it once again,_

_The life that was saved will pass away."_

* * *

Hermione, as Lily Potter, sat in the Quidditch stands, next to Remus Lupin, but she couldn't concentrate on the game that played out before her. She stared at Draco Malfoy as he played along side the Gryffindors, (all of them assuming he was Sirius Black) and she wondered what her life might have been like if he had professed his love to her when they were younger, instead of having waited until now.

Would they have married? Would they have had children? Would the child she was expecting to deliver shortly be a blue-eyed, blond haired 'bundle of Malfoy', instead of a ginger-haired Weasley? She felt guilty thinking these thoughts; because she wouldn't give up her Rose and Hugo for the world, and she was sure he wouldn't give up his son either…still…she couldn't help but wonder…what if?

The game had already been playing for hours, and she felt anxious and restless just sitting in the stands, watching a bunch of children playing a meaningless game, while she worried about her own children back at home. For another thing, she was worried for Snape. She also wanted to question Draco about how he used the stone on her, because in her memory, though his aunt caused her a great deal of pain the day she tortured her at Malfoy Manor during the war, she was nowhere close to death. In addition, she wanted to find out more about The First Stone, so that perhaps they could find a way to go home. The fact that Draco had jumped into the body of Sirius Black was perfect in her opinion. They could sneak off to the Black family home and find out more there…in that massive library at Grimmauld Place.

Scanning the crowd, her eyes caught the gaze of a head master who was slightly younger than the last time she saw him alive. He tipped his head slightly as a form of 'hello'. She did not share the greeting. Instead, she held his gaze, stood, then turned to Remus and said, "I'll be right back." She headed toward the other side of the Quidditch stands immediately.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Dumbledore stood waiting for her, having understood that she wanted to speak with him. She wasn't surprised in the least.

"Miss Evans, was there something I could do for you? You seem as if there is something troubling you," said the wise head master.

"Professor," she began, "you aren't going to believe this, but I'm not really Lily Evans, but more to the point, I need you to tell me everything you know about an ancient amulet known as The First Stone. Most of all, I need to know if there is anywhere to reverse the magic of it, once it's used."

He didn't seem surprised by her statement. Merely nodding again, just as he had in his greeting to her, he held up his right hand, which held the stone in question, and he asked, "Are you referring to this? Severus Snape gave it to me but moments ago. It seems he's under the impression that it saved his life today. Come with me."

* * *

"Where are you, Rose Red?" Scorpius asked aloud in frustration to himself, as he ran down the long corridor between the Potions Lab and the Slytherin's common room. He hadn't seen Rose all day, and he was worried. He was worried that her absence had something to do with their parents' disappearance. The last time they had talked, she had helped him feel better after he had spoken to his mother about his father's vanishing. In fact, she had seemed to be less depressed lately. So where was she today?

He was curious when she didn't show up at her table for breakfast. He was annoyed when she didn't show up for the Prefects meeting right afterwards. First period was History of Magic, so he hardly noticed she wasn't there, because he slept during most of that class, but she never missed Ancient Runes, which was right after.

After Ancient Runes, they had lunch. Even though they usually ate at separate tables, he made certain that he could always see her, and she certainly wasn't there. After lunch was Potions, where he had just left. He was less annoyed and a bit anxious, when she failed to show for that class. He asked a few of her dorm mates if they knew where she was, and they said no. Even seeking out her little brother, he got the same answer; no, no one knew where she was.

That was when he decided to ask her older cousin, James Potter the Second.

Scorpius didn't particularly like James Potter, more on principle than based on fact or reason. James was a year older than him, making him a Seventh year to Scorpius' Sixth. He was head boy. He was captain of the Quidditch team. He was the most popular boy in Gryffindor. In other words, he was quintessentially the Gryffindor version of Scorpius, only a year older. Nevertheless, he was Rose's first cousin, and he was always a decent sort, so he decided to seek him out and ask him where Rose might have gone.

He found James outside after class.

"Potter!" Scorpius ran up to James and his fellow seventh year Gryffindor. Most of them nodded hello to Scorpius, holding no animosity toward the younger man.

"Malfoy," James acknowledged.

"A moment of your time, if you will," he asked. Before James could agree, Scorpius motioned with his head and moved away from the other boys. James followed. "Where's Rosie? She wasn't in any of our classes today, and it's not like her to stave off classes."

James took a large breath and answered, "She didn't want me to tell you."

"What?" Scorpius asked, quite annoyed now. "Listen, Potter, Rose Red and I are very good friends. I have a right to know what's wrong – wait, is something wrong? Is she all right? Is it her mum? Did they find our parents?"

James shook his head even as he answered, "It's not that." He sat down on a bench and the younger man followed. "This thing with my aunt Hermione has Rose all torn up inside. She can't focus, or concentrate. She told me she talked to you just the other day, and that you were depressed as well, so she's determined to do something about it. She said if the adults can't find your dad and her mum that she will."

"She told the head mistress that she's so worried about her mum that she needs to leave for a while, but I think there's more to it than that. She secretly wants to try to help find her. She asked to stay with my folks, instead of with her father, or our grandparents. She told me secretly that she needs Sirius Black's library or something like that, which she would find at Grimmauld Place. She had our Uncle George Owl her some books from there. It's so odd, because my family doesn't even live there, but my father still owns it. She's leaving on the Hogwart's Express this afternoon."

Scorpius almost cringed. He knew she would do something like that, and he felt it was his fault. He suggested that she do research on The First Stone, and he even told her the best place to look would be the Black Family library. He stood quickly, started to run away, and said over his shoulder, "Thanks, Potter! I'll find her from here."

Rose sat all alone on the train, waiting for it to depart. She was nervous, but she knew what she had to do. She had to act on her own. Her Uncle Harry could have arranged a special portkey for her, or could have opened a special Floo, but she wanted to take the train home. She needed time to think. Likewise, she needed time to study the books she had 'borrowed' (with help from her Uncle George) from the library at Grimmauld Place. In addition, as soon as she arrived in London, she planned to go directly to Grimmauld Place before she went to her Uncle's house.

More to the point, she needed some time alone to formulate a plan to bring her mother and Scorpius' father home.

The train lurched forward and she dropped a large book from her lap. Bending forward, she started to pick the heavy tome up with one hand when she noticed her compartment door open. She looked up into a set of grey eyes and instead of feeling afraid, she felt instantly relieved. Even as the train started forward, leaving the station, Rose stood from her seat, the momentum of the train knocking her forward, and she fell with force into the awaiting arms of Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius fell backwards into the seat behind him, Rose in his arms.

Finally, everything was right in his world.

* * *

After the Quidditch game, Draco search everywhere for Hermione. The sky was turning dark, as evening drew nearer, but he couldn't find her anywhere. Running toward the double doors to check outside, he ran right into the head master, falling to the flagstone floor on his backside.

"Are you alright, Mr. Black?" an amused Dumbledore asked.

Draco stood, brushed all his trousers and answered, "Fine, sir."

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"I'm searching for someone," he answered quickly, turning back toward the doors.

"She's waiting for you at Hogwarts Station. I've arranged passage for you both on the Hogwarts express. The answer you seek on how to get back will be found in the Black Family Library, at Grimmauld Place," the older man said ominously.

Draco stared at him in shock. He started to stammer, "I don't, I mean, wh-what, what do you mean?"

"The answers about The First Stone, of course," the older man countered. "They will be found in the Black family home, but then again, you knew that, didn't you?"

Draco merely stared at the man.

"And you'll have no trouble entering the home, as you are a member of that family," he continued, "isn't that correct? I mean, you are Sirius Black, at least, in appearance, and your blood is Black, well, in a sense, correct?"

Draco nodded slightly.

"It's wrong to keep her here, and you know that, son," Dumbledore offered. "It's time to go back. She wants to know the truth. I think a few hours on the train will be sufficient time for you to tell her the whole truth, don't you think? It will also give you ample time to formulate a plan to get back to your time, for I have confidence that a witch and wizard with your abilities won't have any problems figuring out how to get back to your own time."

Draco didn't nod this time. His mouth was set in a firm line, his hands fisted at his sides. "I didn't have enough time with her," he finally said.

"Who's to say that you won't have the rest of your lifetime with her, if you're truthful to her, and if you go back to where you belong? For you don't belong here, in other people's bodies, living out other people's lives," the older man offered. "Go on, she's waiting, as is the train."

Draco inhaled a large breath and turned to walk out the door. As he reached the door, and pulled it opened, he turned back once to look back at Dumbledore, but the head master was gone.

He walked slowly toward the train.

When he reached the station he found only one car with lights on inside, so he climbed aboard. Walking slowly down the long, skinny corridor, he found the compartment where she was standing, looking out the window.

She didn't hear him, no sound came from the hallway, and the door was already open, but she felt a ripple of awareness when he entered the small compartment. A peculiar sensation passed through her, consisting of lightness and heat, which made her warm all over. Suddenly, she felt weary and tired but safe because HE was here. The thought of that scared her. He stood behind her, close to her, and he whispered in her ear, "Is this what you want? Do you want it to be over, Hermione?"

"I want the truth," she begged.

"The truth comes with a price," he said vaguely. Therefore, as the train lurched forward, and they practically fell into their seats, he started to tell her how he used The First Stone on her, all those years ago.

* * *

Scorpius held Rose's hand and started telling her a story of how his father saved her mother's life during the second war, at Malfoy Manor, twenty-two years ago. As he spoke, he placed one arm behind her back, and she easily placed her head upon his shoulder. He clasped her free hand in his. He tightened his arm around her when she shivered.

"He was terrified," Scorpius said at the end of his story. "He told me once that he felt like such a coward, but what could he do? He was my age, our age, the darkest wizard of all time was at his house, his aunt and uncle were Death Eaters, and his father, as well as being a Death Eater, was a broken and bitter man. His mother, well, she was as scared as he was."

Rose moved closer in the confines of his arms and said, "I know it must have been terrifying for your dad, but it was just as scary for my mum and dad, as well as Uncle Harry. My mum has only ever once told us this story, but she told us your dad didn't give them away, and that he really had no choice."

Scorpius was quiet for a moment and then said, "He probably had a choice, but he made the only choice he thought he could."

"Go on, please, how did he save her life," Rose urged. "You were at the part where your aunt had just finished using the Cruciatus curse on my mum for the third time, and she was lying on the ground, and she appeared unconscious."

* * *

Hermione was sitting opposite of Draco, tears streaming down her face at the memory of that night. He spoke in low tones, not daring to look in her eyes. "I didn't think I could stand to hear you scream one more time. I thought each scream would rip me in two. Then suddenly, your screaming stopped. I thought perhaps you were only unconscious again. I looked over at you, from my place behind the chair where I was hiding, and you were so still on the floor. You weren't just unconscious, Hermione. You were dying."

"I was?" she asked, tears still streaming down her face. She said, "Ron once told me that every time I cried out, Harry and him would scream and cry, and it tore them apart as well, and when I was finally quiet, they wondered if perhaps Bellatrix had finally killed me."

She stood from her seat and joined him on his. She took his hand, urging him to continue. He understood. Entwining his fingers with hers, and then bringing her hands to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles. "My aunt stood over you, and she began to cackle and laugh. She said, 'The Mudblood's dead. I killed her! Won't the Dark Lord be pleased when he knows that I killed such an unholy stain?' I was beside myself. I had to check to see if she was right, so I stood from my hiding place and walked up to where you lay, and looked down on you.

"My aunt dared to take my hand. She squeezed it and smiled. I wanted to throw up, because you weren't moving. Your chest wasn't rising or falling, your eyelids weren't flickering, and your lips were even turning blue. You were dying. You were dead, Hermione." He continued to cry as he recounted the story, so she held him tighter, giving him whatever comfort she could offer.

"I had The First Stone in my pocket. I had taken to carrying it with me everywhere, everyday. I was scared. I was scared to admit my feelings for you, I was scared that someone might find it, especially the Dark Lord, and I was scared that I might need it. I needed it then. I used it then. I used it on you, Hermione. I saved your life that night."

"I walked away from your body, but as I did, I said the incantation, softly, almost as a plea or a whispered prayer. I knew that I didn't need to use the incantation for the power of the stone to work. All I really needed was intent and love, but I was afraid that wasn't enough – so I wanted extra insurance, so I said the incantation as well. The stone was in my pocket the whole time, and it worked."

Draco began to cry. Hermione wanted to ask him about the incantation, but instead, she held him in her arms, and they cried together.

* * *

Rose reached up and brushed a single tear away from Scorpius' eye. The young man wasn't aware he had cried. "Your father saved my mum's life," Rose repeated. "So he really did love her. That's the purpose of the stone. To save a person's first or true love."

He nodded.

Rose suddenly stood, even though the train was rocking back and forth. "But if he loved her so much, why did he lie to her twenty-two years later?"

"What?" Scorpius asked. "How did he lie to her?"

* * *

Hermione continued to hold Draco until he stopped crying, but as soon as he calmed down she said, "Draco, I don't even know how to thank you for saving my life."

He reached for her cheek, cupping it softly in his hand, and said, "You don't have to thank me. I love you, Granger. I would save your life a thousand times over."

"But you would also lie to me, right?" she asked.

"What?" he asked. "When have I lied to you?"

"You lied to me, to get me to come back here with you, knowing there was only one way we could ever get back, didn't you? You brought me back here, for selfish reasons, Draco. Why? Why?" she beseeched.

"How did you know?" Draco asked.

Hermione held up the small black book, which Sirius Black had left to Hermione Granger, and which had traveled back in time with them. Draco wasn't even aware that Hermione had gotten it from him. He also wasn't aware that she could read or understand the secret passages in the back of the book…unless…oh, yes…of course…Dumbledore.

* * *

"What? How did he lie to her? When did my father lie to your mother?" Scorpius asked Rose.

"I believe he lied to her to get her to go back in time with her, not telling her of the dangers, and having her believe that they could easily come back whenever they wanted, although that's not true. I believe that's where they are. They aren't really missing – they're just back in time." She moved from the seat next to him, to the seat opposite, and reached underneath to pull out the large book, which she was reading when he entered the train.

Rose opened the book toward the middle, scanned the page on the left with her index finger, found the passage in which she yearned, and then said, "Come here, Scorpius, and read this."

He scooted next to her, and read the passage in the old tome, then read it again. Afterwards, he leaned back against the seat of the train, closed his eyes, and said, "Oh my stars, Dad, what have you done?"


	13. Chapter 13

__

**All characters belong to JKRowling**

**Chapter 13 – Those Who Are Without Sin**

_Scorpius and Hermione went to the large mausoleum that lay behind the gravestone of her daughter. In unspoken accord, they used magic to pull back the heavy stone door. There, in a jewel and glass encrusted coffin, in the middle of the tomb, on a stone slab, they found the body of __Rose__Macbeth__Weasley__. Though she had been deceased a year, she looked as lovely as she had on the day she died. In fact, she did not look dead, but seemed to be merely sleeping._

_It hurt Hermione to see her like this and she began to cry._

_Scorpius knew he didn't have time for tears. He placed a hand on the top of the multi-coloured, glass coffin and said the incantation that had been written by __Helga__Hufflepuff__. Then he added the last line…the line that only a member of the Black family could read: _

_"And then those of you without sin shall cast the first stone. Those of you whose love is pure of heart, and who shall give your life selflessly, shall have your love's life brought back to you . . . ."_

* * *

Sitting on the train with Scorpius, Rose opened the large tome that she had borrowed from the 'restricted section' of the library at Hogwarts and urged, "Come here, Scorpius, and read this."

He scooted next to her, and read the passage in the old book. Then he read it again. Afterwards, he leaned back against the seat of the train, closed his eyes, and said, "Oh my stars, Dad, what have you done?"

Closing the book slowly, with a sob caught in her throat, she asked, "Do you think he knew? Do you?"

Scorpius stood up in the small train compartment, and brought his hand up to the wall to steady himself as he insisted, "I'm sure he didn't! He wouldn't have done something like that! We don't even know whether or not they used The First Stone! That's only a theory! I shouldn't have told you that I suspect that! Just because he asked me to give it back to him, doesn't mean he gave it to her, or even that they used it!"

She dropped the book in the seat beside her and stood before him. "Do you really believe that?"

"My father loves me!" Scorpius shouted. "He would never leave me, knowing he couldn't come back for three years! He wouldn't do that to me!" Yet, even as the words were leaving his mouth, he knew they were false. He dropped to the opposite seat, hung his head and said, "Would he? He wouldn't, would he?"

Rose dropped to her knees, grabbed both his hands in hers and said, "I'm so sorry, but I think he would. I think he did. We have to get them back. This book says there's only one way to do that. There's supposedly a spell that supersedes all the other spells that had been put on the stone by the other founders. Hufflepuff herself placed this spell on the stone. She did this long after The First Stone had been given to her. We have to find evidence of that spell, Scorpius. We have to use it and bring our parents home. I believe we'll find that spell in the library at Grimmauld Place."

Wrenching his hands from hers, Scorpius stood so fast that Rose fell to her bum. He rushed to the door of the train compartment and said, "I don't care any longer. He can stay away forever. If he didn't love me enough to stay with me, than I don't love him enough to bring him home." He disappeared down the long, lonely corridor, leaving a confused and saddened Rose sitting on the floor.

She picked the book up from the seat, placed it on her lap as she sat on the floor, and mumbled to herself, "Well, I do still care. I'm bringing my mother home, no matter what, and you're father can just rot in hell."

* * *

Draco had just explained to Hermione how he had used The First Stone to save her life all those years ago.

"Draco, I don't even know how to thank you for saving my life," she said as a humble reply.

He reached for her cheek, cupping it softly in his hand, and said, "You don't have to thank me. I love you, Granger. I would save your life a thousand times over."

"But you would also lie to me, right?" she asked.

"What?" he asked. "When have I lied to you?"

"You lied to me, to get me to come back here with you, knowing there was only one way we could ever get back, didn't you? You brought me back here, for selfish reasons, Draco. Why? Why?" she beseeched.

All Draco could think was _"Damn Dumbledore to hell!"_

However, he wouldn't show her that he knew to what she was referring, so he leveled his emotions and asked, "How did you know?"

Hermione held up the small black book, which Sirius Black had left to Hermione Granger, this book which had traveled back in time with them. Draco wasn't even aware that Hermione had gotten it from him, but suddenly he realized that it wasn't Dumbledore that had revealed his secret. Yet, how could she read or understand the secret passages in the back of the book…unless…oh, yes…of course… Dumbledore DID reveal his secrets after all. His thoughts went once again to the same notion – DAMN THAT DUMBLEDORE TO HELL!

"I can explain," he replied, his hands out in a form of a plea, standing to give him an advantage over her.

"Can you?" She stood as well. "You tricked me! You brought me back here under false pretenses. You knew that we would be stuck here for three years!" She pushed him, HARD, and he fell backwards in the seat behind him as she repeated, "THREE YEARS, DRACO!"

As he sat in the seat in front of her she bellowed, "I have a life, children, bloody hell, Malfoy, I was close to delivering my third child, and you brought me here, to a state of limbo, to live in another person's life, for THREE YEARS! What were you thinking?"

He started to speak, but she began to yell again, so he closed his mouth, "Did you even consider whose bodies we would jump into? I'm in Lily Potter's body! I might look like Hermione Granger to you, but to everyone else, I look like Lily Potter, well, Lily Evans right now! You look like Sirius Black! We're in our sixth year at Hogwarts! How could we possibly live an idyllic life together as Lily and Sirius, when they weren't even a couple?"

He started to speak once more, but she actually hit him over the head with an open hand, so he rubbed his head instead as she shouted, "And it's only a year or so after this time that Lily marries James and has Harry! It's not as if we jumped into a wonderfully, easy time here, Malfoy! You're such an idiot!"

"Hey!" he interjected.

Hermione glared at him, so he remained quiet. She sat down in the seat facing him and declared, "And the passage here in this book, translated to me by Dumbledore, says that Hufflepuff put a charm on the amulet, so that there is only one way we can get out of this mess, and the book that has that charm written on it is in the library at Grimmauld Place."

She turned to look out the window, tears unexpectedly falling from her eyes. Her new tears shocked him. "And by all that's holy, Malfoy, I will find that book, find that spell, and find a way back to my life!" She turned to him again. "I want MY life back, and then if I decide later that I want YOU in it that will be up to me. Do you understand?"

He scowled back at her, stood and walked to the doorway of their compartment. Once at the doorway, he turned back to her and said, "I understand perfectly, Mrs. Weasley. Have a good life. I already assume it will be without me. I'll help you find the way home, back to your family. I'm sorry for everything, but to quote you, by all that is holy, I'm not sorry for bringing you back here, and I'm not sorry for loving you."

He stormed away, and she continued to look out the window and cry.

* * *

Rose searched for Scorpius everywhere. The train was empty, save for them, the engineer, his crew, and the conductor. Therefore, Scorpius had to be somewhere on the train. Yet she traveled down aisle after aisle, looked in every car, and couldn't find him. She was about to give up, when she decided to check the luggage car. She knew that on this trip, the car should be empty.

It was, save for one seventeen year old boy, who sat up against a wall, knees pulled up to his chin, arms wrapped around his body, in a mostly empty luggage compartment.

She sat down next to him, placed an arm around his shoulders, and said, "I'm so sorry. This doesn't mean your father doesn't love you."

"No, it only means he loves your mother more," he replied, wiping away embarrassing tears, lest Rose think less of him. He turned to her and asked, "What's wrong with me, Rose Red? Am I that unlovable, that even my own parents can't love me?"

That question made Rose's reply stifle in her throat. How could he ask something like that? She cupped his cheek and said, "You, Scorpius Malfoy, are one of the most lovable people I have ever met. You try to act as if you're all bravado and 'devil may care' on the outside, but that's part of your charm. All the boys in school want to emulate you and all the girls want to date you. On the inside, you're sweet and caring, and giving, and selfless, in spite of the fact that your parents are selfish sometimes."

She pulled him over and he fell into her lap, his head on her thigh. Rose stroked his long hair, his shoulder, his arm. He drew small circles on her leg, over her jeans, with his finger. He wanted to cry again, but he held his tears at bay.

Finally, he asked, "Rose Red?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think those things about me?"

"Of course."

"You think I'm lovable?"

"Yes."

He stopped drawing circles on her leg. He moved so that he was staring up at her, his head still on her thigh. She had to straighten her legs in front of her to accommodate him. He reached up and began to pull at her hair, twirling it around his fingers.

"Rosie?"

"Yes?"

"You're lovable, too."

"Thank you?" She reached down and placed a hand on his chest, over his heart.

"I love you," he whispered. "I mean, I'm in love with you."

"Really?" she whispered back, hoarsely.

He nodded slightly, his hand still in her hair, but moving to her face, to caress her cheek.

She moved her hand from his chest to his face. She thought he was one of the most handsome boys…no…men, she had ever known. He was actually beautiful, inside and out, despite his upbringing, and his parents. Tracing her fingers around his mouth, slowly, she said, "I'm in love with you, too. I have been for most of my life."

* * *

Hermione felt so tired after crying. She knew she had to find Draco, because she had to talk to him.

First, she had to tell him that she forgave him, because she did. Second, she had to tell him that she knew he did what he did because he loved her. She needed him to know that she knew he hadn't been thinking straight, because in her heart of hearts, she knew he wouldn't have really left with her, knowing they would be gone from their children for three years. She knew this because she also knew that he loved his son as much as she loved her children.

Third, she had to tell him that she loved him and that no matter what, once they found their way home, she still wanted to be with him. She wanted to be with him as Hermione and Draco though and not as Harriet and Cygnus, or Lily and Sirius.

She walked along the moving corridors of the train and finally found him in the mostly empty luggage compartment, sitting on the floor, his legs folded, his arms folded as well, his eyes downcast.

She sat beside him and without asking permission, she took his hand. Usually, words came easily to Hermione Granger, as easily as breathing, but now, they eluded her. She wanted to tell him that she forgave him for all his mistakes and sins, and that she loved him, but she thought it was almost too easy, and she didn't want it to be easy, not when he had made everything so hard and difficult.

Finally, she brought his hand up to her mouth, kissed it and said, "I suppose I should forgive you."

He turned her hand around, as it clasped his, and raised it to his mouth. Mimicking her, he kissed her hand as well and said, "I make everything hard, don't I? It's hard to forgive someone who doesn't seek redemption. I'm not sure I'm sorry for what I've done, though in a way I am. I never meant to hurt you, or your children, or the baby you were carrying, or my son. I could care less about hurting our spouses." He turned her hand around, cradled it in both of his, and placed it back in her lap.

Her breathing was becoming rapid and she tilted her head slightly, cocking it toward his, she said, "I'm not sorry to hurt them either. Does that make me a sinner, too?"

He reached over to pull on a strand of her hair and with a twinkle in his eye, he said, "When you say, 'too', are you calling me a sinner?"

"Yes," she rejoined, seriously.

"Then yes," he chuckled, "If I'm a sinner, so are you, of the worst degree."

"I'm not sure I like being a sinner," she said with a smile.

He shrugged and said, "It's served me well all these years." He traced his finger down her face, then around her lips, tilting her chin up so he could ghost a kiss upon her lips. Leaning away, he said, "Was kissing you just now a sin? Just wondering."

"Adultery is supposedly a sin, if you're a Christian and you believe in such things," she added.

"I'm a pagan, a true heathen," he joked, his hand going back into her hair, pulling at the tendrils, and then coming to rest on her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed.

"Then for you, I guess it's not a sin, but even pagans and heathens must have a moral code to follow, right?" she breathed slowly, as heat and awareness flushed through her.

He lowered his head and kissed her neck, then her collarbone, pulling her shirt open; as his hand crept down to unbutton the column of buttons on her shirt. The delicate touch over the layer of cotton made her shiver. He whispered in her ear, "Morals are an objective thing, Granger."

His open mouth on her neck was warm and soft on her skin and sent a pool of heat to her lower abdomen. Hermione wasn't even aware that he had completely unbuttoned her blouse until it was open and his hand was resting on her chest, over her heart, above her breast.

She swallowed hard and managed to say, "Morals are objective, as you say, but mine are high, and if we have sex, we're no better than our spouses."

He continued to kiss her neck and face, his hand now gently cupping one breast, and he said, "So you said before. I don't care. It was never my goal to be better than anyone else. I've only wanted to be the same as everyone else." He brushed his hand down between her breasts, to her bare stomach, and before she knew it, he positioned her so that they were both lying on the floor.

He kissed her jaw and down her throat, moving downward slowly. She couldn't hold back the whimper that was in her throat as he moved aside her bra and kissed her breasts, first the right one, then the left. Removing her bra completely, his mouth continued to kiss her ear and neck as his finger plucked her nipple.

She started to moan, but it was cut off when his mouth finally found hers, taking it with a deep, but tender kiss. His mouth plundered hers, his lips sliding across hers, his tongue invading the inside of her mouth, moving like silk against her tongue.

His hand was flat against her stomach as his mouth returned to her breasts. Hermione was overwhelmed with a surge of emotions as his hands and mouth assaulted her. His touch stirred something inside her that made her feel comforted, yet defenseless. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life.

As they continued to make love, all thoughts of his betrayal, and her past life, went to the wayside. There was only the here and now. Her body was aflame, brought to life by his body, his lovemaking, his life. She melted into him, with a pulsing, thunderous, thrumming heat as he sunk deep inside of her, claiming her finally as his own.

He didn't apologize, for it was what he had wanted all along, and so he took what he felt was his, by right and even by wrong. When it was done, he kissed her slowly, tenderly, with passion and possessiveness.

Hermione didn't know how long they lay on the floor of the luggage car, wrapped in each other's arms, but slowly, without words, they each started to clean up and dress. When it was done, they went back to their original positions, sitting by each other on the floor, up against the wall, holding hands.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" He leaned over, placed her hair behind her ear, and kissed her cheek.

"I mean, when we go back? Are we going to confront Ron and Astoria right away, and when are we going to tell them about us? Are we going to wait to tell everyone about our relationship? Are we going to tell them about The First Stone?" She gripped his hand tighter. "I mean, if we get home. I dearly hope we find the answers we're searching for at Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore said we would."

Draco became very quiet. Hermione turned to look at him, and she said his name, "Draco?"

Not answering any of her questions, he said vaguely, "You're never going to forgive me."

"What? Of course I am. I've already forgiven you. I know you didn't mean for us to be stuck in the bodies of Lily and Sirius for three years, anyway, I'm sure we'll find a way home."

"No," he said glumly, evasively. He squeezed her hand and said, "Do you remember when I mentioned the power of three."

She frowned, pulled her hand from his, and asked, "What?"

"We were meant to follow the path of the stone, right?" he asked. "The last three times it was used, right?"

She nodded, trying to follow what he was saying, but not understanding. He stood, looked down on her, and admitted, "We've only visited two so far, right?"

Her mouth opened in shock. She stood up and said, "Wait a minute!"

"NO!" he argued. He grabbed her hand, while in his other hand he had the little black book. Around his neck, he wore the amulet. He said the incantation they had used the other two times…once to get to Riddle's time, once to get to the Marauders' time, and now, to go back to when Draco and Hermione were DRACO AND HERMIONE.

She tried to pull away, to protest, but it was too late. Everything went black for moment, and then when she became aware of her surroundings she was sitting alone, by a tree, in The Forest of Dean, with a tent not far behind her. She began to gasp, breathing hard. Looking all around her, she couldn't find Draco anywhere, nor did she see anyone else. She didn't have the amulet or the book. The only book she could see was the little book that Dumbledore left to her when he died. The title clearly read, 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'.

She couldn't believe Malfoy would do this to her - make her live this time, this place, all over again, just to prolong his time with her, just to keep her from finding the Hufflepuff counter curse that was supposedly at Grimmauld place. Now they would probably never get home! If she was back to the year that she was searching for Horcruxes, that meant that she would have to endure the torturing at Malfoy Manor once again!

She stood up and shouted, "I HATE YOU DRACO MALFOY!"

She heard the rustling of leaves, as if a person was moving closer to her. Turning rapidly, she pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the person behind her.

Harry Potter stood behind her, his own wand in his hand, but both hands in the air, and he said with a chuckle, "I surrender, Hermione, but for your information, I was just going to agree with your little outburst, and say that I hated Draco Malfoy, too."

Hermione lowered her arms, dropped her wand, and ran to Harry, throwing her arms around his neck. He was shocked, and it took several seconds before he reciprocated and threw his arms around her as well. He patted her back and said, "It's okay, Hermione, it's okay. You can shout and proclaim your hatred of Malfoy all you want. You put up a silencing charm, remember? So that the snatchers and Death Eaters couldn't find us, right? So shout and scream all you want. It's just you and me here."

"Oh, Harry, I remember. Oh, help me, please, I remember everything," she sobbed on his shoulder.


	14. Chapter 14

**All characters belong to JKRowling**

**Chapter 14 – Righting a Wrong**

_Scorpius said the incantation that had been written by Helga Hufflepuff. Then he added the last line…the line that only a member of the Black family could read from the book: _

"_**And then those of you without sin shall cast the first stone. Those of you whose love is pure of heart, and who shall give your life selflessly, shall have your love's life brought back to you . . . ."**_

_Before he could finish the incantation, a scraping noise could be heard at the mouth of the mausoleum, as if someone was opening the heavy oak doors and the bottoms were scuffing across the stone floors. Hermione and Scorpius turned toward the sound to watch and wait._

"_STOP!" a man begged. "You can't do this! I won't let you do this!" It was Draco Malfoy. No one had seen him in a year and he looked worse for wear. Thin, haggard, and emanating sadness, he reached for the black book, which dangled from his son's hands, and swatted it so that it landed on the floor. "I won't let you die for her!"_

_Hermione walked up to him, slapped him hard across the face, leaving a handprint on his cheek. She seethed, "No, but you'll let my daughter die to bring us home!"_

"_She didn't have to die!" he moaned. "We would have come home eventually! And I've tried, and tried to bring her back! Don't you think I've tried! Do you hate me so much, Granger, that you would take my son's life in exchange for your daughter's life? What good would that do? They would both be dead!"_

"_It's not like that, Father," Scorpius began, leaning down to pick up the black book. As he stood, his hand went to the heavy amulet that felt like a lead weight around his neck. _

_Hermione walked between father and son and said, "I didn't ask him to do this, and I wouldn't do it if I thought he would die! He said it would bring her back. And she's not really gone, but merely in a form of stasis! I know that much is true, and he said he could bring her back! All I had to do was give him the stone, freely! He already had the book!" She pulled on Draco's shirt and begged, "Let him try! Please! He's an adult now, and can choose for himself, and he wants to do this. Let him try!"  
_

"_NO! It won't work! She's gone, Hermione! I'm sorry, and you can kill me as retribution, but Rose is dead and gone!"_

_Scorpius ignored the pair. He knew his father was wrong. It had to be him. He was the only one who could bring Rose back. He should have been the one to bring their parents back to the present a year ago, not her, because she did it for the wrong reasons, and she had hate in her heart for his father, but Rose wouldn't listen to reason back then, just as Hermione and his father wouldn't listen to reason today. _

_When his father tried to right all the wrongs, he too did it for the wrong reasons, for he did it out of guilt and remorse, instead of out of love and purity._

_When Hermione tried to bring Rose back, she failed as well, because she had too much anger in her heart…anger at Draco, at the world, at herself._

_It had to be him. He was the only one doing it for selfless reasons, and the only one doing it out of love. It was the last self-guard placed on the stone by Gryffindor and his 'power of three' curse._

_He started the incantation again._

* * *

Scorpius whispered to Rose, "I love you. I mean, I'm in love with you."

"Really?" she whispered back, hoarsely.

He nodded slightly, his hand still in her hair, but moving to her face, to caress her cheek.

She moved her hand from his chest to his face. She thought he was one of the most handsome boys…no…men, she had ever known. He was actually beautiful, inside and out, despite his upbringing, and his parents. Tracing her fingers around his mouth, slowly, she said, "I'm in love with you, too. I have been for most of my life."

"I didn't know that," he replied. "I always thought you thought I was a pain in the arse."

She smiled and said, "You're a pain in the arse, but you're my pain in the arse."

"You have a way with words, Rose Red," he joked. He smiled at her and brushed his knuckles down her face. "What would I do without you? I don't even want to know what a world would be like without you, Rosie."

"You won't have to know, Scorpius," she promised.

"But what you're planning, or what I think you're planning, is dangerous," he declared.

She pushed away from him and said, "You have no clue as to what I'm planning."

He took a deep breath and said, "Yes I do. You read something in one of those books that led you to believe there's a counter curse placed on The First Stone. One placed there by Hufflepuff, which will allow you to bring our parents back, right?"

She nodded.

"You're right. There is, but you can't use it," he declared.

"Yes I can," she said stubbornly. "I'll find it, in one of those books, and I'll use it, you'll see! No one can tell me I can't!"

"That's not what I mean," he argued. He shook his head and rubbed his temple with his fingers. He didn't want to explain it to her right now, but only two people had the power to bring their parents back, and she wasn't one of them, but he didn't have the heart to tell her so.

He wished his father had done things differently, but he knew he felt desperate, so he could find it in his heart to forgive him, but he wondered if Hermione or Rose would ever be able to do the same. He stood up and said, "Let's go back to our seats. I don't want to discuss it any longer."

She stood as quickly as he did and took his arm. "Are you angry, Scorpius? I couldn't stand it if you were angry with me. I'm holding on right now, by a mere thread, anyway, and that thread is anchored to you. These have been the worst three weeks of my life; I feel as if I have no one else right now, not my father, certainly not my mum, nor anyone in my father's family. Please, don't be angry."

He turned slowly to face her. Her face was grave and her eyes filled with an intensity and fervor that he had not seen in a long time. The thought that he was her anchor, pressed upon him like a heavy weight upon his chest and filled him with a heartening bliss. She trusted him. She loved him. "I'm not angry, Rose. I don't think I've ever been angry with you. I know you're passionate about things, and that's what I love about you." In an act to give her consolation and solace, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the backside.

Rose's breath caught in her throat, as a shimmer of desire started to race through her veins at the innocuous gesture. She leaned toward him and placed her free hand on his chest. She stood on her toes and pressed her lips upon his.

The instant her lips touched his, he curved his arms around her waist, brought her body flush against his and she clung to him, her arms around his neck. They kissed long, hard, sweet, and deeply.

Nothing prepared either for the feelings they were feeling. Soon, they were back on the floor of the luggage car, and Rose felt as if she were on fire, because his mouth and hands roamed everywhere, and she yearned for them to continue to touch her everywhere, and beyond everywhere.

She ached. Her breasts felt heavy and painful. A pulse throbbed in her lower stomach. They kissed harder, explored deeper, moved in a rhythm that was foreign, yet right.

He touched her one of her breasts with his hand, and then with his mouth and she cried out. She cried out his name, and cried for more. Her hands went into his long hair and she urged his head closer, trembling under his mouth and hands. She was a virgin, and she figured he was not, but she didn't care, because it didn't matter. At that moment, she was taut, he was hard, and she needed something that only he could provide.

Scorpius murmured her name, repeatedly. He couldn't believe this was real. He had wanted her for so long, had loved her almost as long. Every girl before her was a pale imitation, and every woman afterward, (if there would be any afterwards) would be a mocking reminder of the only woman he would ever love. This woman.

He was aroused beyond what he thought he could bear, and he knew it was her first time, so, he went slowly, gently, offering everything to her, so as not to scare her, or make her regret a single moment of their time together.

At their joining, she jerked and cried out, and he smoothed back her hair, stopped, and asked, "Am I hurting you?"

"Please, don't stop," she urged.

And so he didn't. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was primal, intimate, instinctual, to feel skin upon skin, heat upon heat. There were words of love that passed between them, but in the end, they said nary a word as they held each other, and finally, they dressed right before the train stopped at the station.

Embarking at the station, Rose blushed as he held her hand. She smiled at him. He smiled back.

She didn't know what to say. They hadn't said a word since they had dressed and the train had stopped. At last, she asked, "Shall we Apparate to Grimmauld Place? I know the wards will permit me to enter."

Scorpius nodded and then said, "Yes, let's do that, but the book we need isn't there. A book was given to your mother by Remus Lupin, which belonged to Sirius Black, and that's the book we need. My father took the book we need, with the Hufflepuff incantation, back in time. You've probably seen it before. I know my father would have made certain that they had it in the past with them, because they would have needed it for the magic to work properly. The First Stone's magic has never worked right without the book."

She stared at him, indignant, and huffed, "Why didn't you tell me that in the beginning! It's useless, then! We can't bring them home!"

He grasped her face in his hands and said, "I think we can, Rose Red. We don't need that book, because I know the incantation. I have it memorized. Come on; let's go to Grimmauld Place, where we won't be interrupted."

* * *

According to the date, which Hermione had asked Harry to confirm three times, they were due to meet back up with Ron in four days. That meant capture by the snatchers wasn't far behind. Which also meant her torture (and possible death?) at the hands of Bellatrix was only a mere few days away.

It also meant that within a week she would see Draco Malfoy again. She didn't know what she would do if and when she saw him again. She might kill him. She truly might at that.

Harry consoled her while she cried for the last hour and a half, confused as to why she was crying, figuring she was distraught over the same old things – Ron's betrayal, the loneliness, the cold, the fear of the unknown. And while two of those things held true for her recent tears, because Ron had betrayed her once again, and she was once again afraid, these tears were cried for a whole host of new reasons. Reasons she could never tell a seventeen year old Harry Potter who was about to face the worst time of his life.

Oh, but she wanted to tell him everything. She didn't, though. She wanted to say: "I'm thirty-eight years old, married to your worthless best friend, and my third child is due to be delivered any day now. Draco Malfoy, who up until a few hours ago, I thought I loved, is still a heartless bastard, even though he apparently saves my life in a few days using an ancient artifact called The First Stone."

She looked at the heavy amulet as it rested underneath her jumper, next to the other locket, and she suddenly felt as if she needed to put quill to parchment. She needed to sort through everything she had learned about The First Stone.

Harry was outside, holding her wand, standing guard, so she went quickly and quietly to her cot, reached underneath for a sheath of parchment and stumbled back to the table.

She wrote on the top of the page - _**The First Stone**__._

Hermione thought for a moment. She recalled that Ravenclaw made The First Stone for Hufflepuff. She gave it to Hufflepuff and told her that she could use the stone to undo any one thing in her life, but that it could only be used once. Hermione wrote down:

_**Everyone can use it only once in his or her lifetime**_.

Slytherin put the first counter-curse upon it:

_**Once the magic of the stone is set, it can't be changed, however, the possessor of the stone can either fix something in their own life, as intended, or undo something instead. They could use the stone to right a wrong; to change something that someone else did with the stone**_.

In fact, the box that housed the book that Lupin had given her had writing on it that said something to that affect.

_**If the possessor discovers that the way is not straight, but crooked and fraught with wrong, it shall be made right by the possessor, who then forfeits his chance for selflessness. This may be done once and only once.**_

As soon as Hermione wrote this, she realized something. Draco made her believe in the beginning that it was HER idea to go back, when it was really his all along! He acted as if he didn't even know about the black book that belonged to Sirius Black, but of course, he knew about it! She thought they were going back in time to see the path of the stone, when his intention was to go back and keep her there!

Something Tom Riddle told her was the next thing she wrote.

_**For the power of The First Stone to work, it must be given freely.**_

Well, Draco certainly gave her the amulet freely, so it was now hers to do with it as she would. Next, she wrote down _**The Power of Three**_ and underlined it, for emphasis.

_**Gryffindor's curse (a counter curse to Slytherin's curse) – **__**The Power of Three**__** – See the path the stone made as far back as the last three uses – Part 1. **_

_**Part II - a single person couldn't change something from the past. They would have to change it with two others; two others who were also previous possessors of the stone, and only then, could all three go back and change something. This would keep one person from acting alone.**_

_**Part III - ? **_

Draco never did reveal to her what the third 'power' was, so she left that part blank. She also realized something else. She was the last possessor of the stone, not in the sense that it was now around her neck, but in the sense that Draco had given it to her that day, over three weeks ago, in her living room. She wondered if the third thing was what she assumed it was…did it mean that she could still undo the one thing that pertained to her, without the aid of others, if she did it unselfishly, or was that already a given variable of the stone.

She realized she had more questions than answers, and was no closer to going home. That didn't mean she was giving up, however, and it didn't mean she was reconciled to reliving the torture that was upcoming, because she wasn't.

Standing from the table, she walked over to flap of the tent, moved it aside as she pocketed the piece of parchment in her hand, and she said, "Harry?"

Looking up at her, he answered, "Yes?"

Squatting beside him, she offered, "Let me take over now. You get some rest, please. I'm not tired in the least."

He brooked no argument but merely handed her wand to her, stood, and went over to his cot, lying on his side. She closed the flap of the tent, huddled under the blankets he left abandoned by the side of the tent's doorway, and reached back in her pocket for the piece of parchment. There had to be something missing. There had to be some piece of magic that she either didn't know about, or had forgotten existed, or Draco had kept hidden from her.

Studying the parchment, she was shocked when she heard, "Granger?"

Hearing her name frightened her more than it should have. She dropped the list and her wand and stood so suddenly that the blankets slipped off her shoulders. Before her stood Draco Malfoy, as he looked when he was seventeen years old.

How did he breach their wards? How had he found them? Why was he here? Was he changing things by being here? Had he been followed? A deluge of questions barged in her brain, but only one passed her lips. "Why, Draco? Why?"


	15. Chapter 15

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 15 – Cast the First Stone**

Hermione sat at the small wooden table inside a tent in the Forest of Dean, and on a small piece of parchment wrote down 'The Power of Three' and underlined it, for emphasis.

Then she wrote:

* * *

**_Part 1 - Gryffindor's curse (a counter curse to Slytherin's curse) – The Power of Three – See the path the stone made as far back as the last three uses. _**

**_Part II - a single person couldn't change something from the past. They would have to change it with two others; two others who were also previous possessors of the stone, and only then, could all three go back and change something. This would keep one person from acting alone._**

**_Part III - ? _**

* * *

Realizing that Draco hadn't revealed to her what the third 'power' was, she left that part blank, with four question marks behind it. Suddenly, she realized something else. She was the last possessor of the stone, not in the sense that it was now around her neck, but in the sense that Draco had given it to her that day, over three weeks ago, in her living room. She wondered if the third thing was what she assumed it was…did it mean that she could still undo the one thing that pertained to her, without the aid of others, as long as she did it unselfishly. Was that, perhaps, already a given variable of the stone.

She had more questions than answers. Even though she was no closer to going home than she had been before, that didn't mean she was giving up or that she was reconciled to reliving the torture that was upcoming, because she wasn't.

Standing from the table, she walked over to flap of the tent, moved it aside and pocketed the piece of parchment in her hand. She said softly, "Harry?"

Looking up at her, he answered, "Yes?"

Squatting beside him, she offered, "Let me take over now. You get some rest, please. I'm not tired in the least."

He handed her wand to her and went over to his cot, lying on his side. She closed the flap of the tent, huddled under the blankets he left abandoned by the side of the tent's doorway, and reached back in her pocket for the piece of parchment. There had to be something missing. There had to be some piece of magic that she either didn't know about, or had forgotten existed, or Draco had kept hidden from her.

Studying the parchment, she was shocked when she heard, "Granger?"

Hearing her name frightened her more than it should have. She dropped the list and her wand and stood so suddenly that the blankets slipped off her shoulders. Before her stood Draco Malfoy, as he had looked when he was seventeen years old.

How did he breach their wards? How had he found them? Why was he here? Was he changing things by being here? Had he been followed? A deluge of questions crowded into her brain, but only one passed her lips. "Why, Draco? Why?"

"I know you have a lot of questions for me," he said softly. The First Stone hung from a chain around his neck.

She stood, shaking all over with fury. She reached up to her neck, thinking that The First Stone should be there instead of around his neck, but the only locket around her neck was the Horcrux. "No, what I have for you is a lot of anger, Draco Malfoy!"

"That's understandable," he agreed, bringing up his hands to remove the heavy, ruby amulet from his neck. Holding it toward her without a word, nor an explanation as to why he brought them back to this time, or even a single offering of apology or a single declaration of love, he added, "Here."

"Is that all you have to say?" she hissed silently, so not to wake Harry. She rushed up to him and pushed the hand with the necklace away. He didn't answer her. His silence on all fronts made Hermione's anger bubble to the surface and she rushed him again, grabbed the necklace from his hand before she pushed him to the ground. He was so startled that he didn't try to move, or even defend himself, even as she landed on top of him, her hands coming down upon him, blow after blow.

After she had struck him at least a dozen times, and he hadn't even raised a hand to defend himself, although his lip was bleeding, and he had scratch marks against his cheeks, she stopped her assault, though she remained straddling his torso. Then she cried again, "Why, Draco? Why?"

She began to cry in earnest, great heaves racking her body as she slumped over him. Reaching up with both hands, he held her tightly and said, "Hit me, hate me, do what you must, but the only way we can get home now is to live out the last of the last three paths of the stone. I don't want you to be tortured again, but short of someone from the future bringing us back home, we have no choice. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

He rolled slightly so they were both lying on their sides on the cold ground. He reached over to stroke her tear soaked hair from her face. She hit his hand away, scrambled to her feet, and said, ''I don't know how you found me here in the forest, but go away, back to the Manor. I can't stand even to look at you right now!"

She started inside the tent, but turned back and as she did, she threw The First Stone from her hand right at him. He winced as it bounced off his chest and then landed on the ground beside his leg. "Take that back," she said bitterly. "You'll need it to save my life in a few days, but know one thing, Malfoy, when we go back I want nothing more to do with you."

She ran into the tent and left him on the ground. Clasping the amulet in his hand, he knew the hatred that she unexpectedly felt for him was nothing compared to the self-loathing that he felt. He stood up, brushed off his clothing and Disapparated away, the ancient necklace firmly in his hand.

Rose and Scorpius stood on the sidewalk outside Grimmauld Place, holding hands. "It'll appear in a moment," Rose assured him with a smile. She peered up into his face, a hand over her eyes to block out the bright afternoon sun.

Scorpius had heard many stories of the Black Ancestral home, but he had never been there. To his surprise, a large house did appear, just as Rose had said, almost out of thin air, between the other two houses that flanked it. Scorpius smiled, looked down at Rose and said, "Wicked Awesome. How did you do that?"

"It only appears to people who are secret keepers, of which I'm one," she boasted proudly.

He knocked his shoulder into hers. "You're a secret keeper? You couldn't keep a secret if you tried."

"Very funny, come on," she replied, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him toward the door.

Two hours later, they were sitting amongst towers of books on the floor in the library at Grimmauld Place and they were no closer to finding a way to bring their parents home when Scorpius pushed a book he was reading aside. "Rose?"

She didn't stop reading. She barely made a response even after he called her name a second time. "Rose Red, stop reading for a moment and look at me."

She finally did.

"You know, we could always wait for them to come home on their own. It's the safest option."

"That's not going to happen," she said with a frown. "Especially after you told me that they would have to live out the last three times the stone was used! One of those times, my mother was tortured to the point of near death, Scorpius! I'm going to find a way to bring my mother home. She wouldn't have gone away at all, if your father hadn't tricked her somehow. He coerced my mother to go back in time with him, of that I'm certain."

Now he frowned. "You don't know that. Everything I know of your mother points to the fact that she's very smart and capable. I doubt anyone could force her to do something she wouldn't want to do. My father wouldn't force her to do something like that."

"Of course he did! Everything I know of your father points to the fact that he's underhanded, conniving, self-centered, and he only thinks of himself! She wouldn't have left on her own! She wouldn't have left my little brother! She wouldn't have left me!" Rose stood up from the floor and towered over him.

He stood up and towered over her, even though she was standing and said, "She might have! Listen, I'm sure she didn't plan on being gone this long. Still, from what you've told me, and from what my father's told me, your mother is very inquisitive, so she probably wanted to go back so she could see what the stone would do! She's the one that would have had the book that my grandmother's cousin, Sirius, left to his friend, Remus Lupin! It would've had all the real secrets to the stone!"

"Yes, but only your father, or someone with Black blood, would've been able to read it! You told me that yourself!" she screamed. "You already told me that my mother wasn't aware of the secret parts of that book, but that your father was! She also didn't know that they would have to relive the last three paths of the stone, that means she'll have to be tortured by your father's evil aunt again, and I won't let that happen!" She sat back down amongst the pile of books, only to stand back up again.

Kicking the pile of books closest to her in frustration, she screamed, "After that, we don't even know that they'll be able to come back!"

"They will!" he stated. "I know it! Father once explained the magic of The First Stone to me, and they will!"

She rushed up to him, pushed him hard enough that he stumbled backwards, tripping over a pile of books and landing on the floor. She shouted, "I don't believe anything your father has to say, and neither should you. My mother was a fool to believe him! If he really loved her, as you claimed, he wouldn't want her to suffer! He wouldn't want you to suffer!"

She grabbed a large grey book from the floor and started out of the room. "And if you don't want to help me then leave. I don't need you! I can do this myself!"

She went to a room down the hall and sat at a small table that had four chairs around it. Scorpius left her alone for about an hour, but finally he approached the room so quietly that she didn't even hear him until he was beside her elbow. He leaned down and quickly kissed her cheek. Her hand fluttered to the place he kissed.

He sat down in an empty chair next to her and pleaded, "Let's not fight. I know what my father did was wrong, but I love him as much as you love your mother. I really think we should wait for them to come home naturally. They will. I know I should have told you that in the beginning, but I didn't want you to worry, but they will come home. I promise."

"I don't think I can trust your promises, no more than my mother could trust your father's promises," she said with a sigh, adding, "and that's why I have to do this." She pushed the book toward him. "Look, I think I found a spell that'll work. This book of spells contains spells written by the founders of Hogwarts. I think this passage was written in regards to The First Stone."

With a frown, Scorpius read the entire chapter of the book, then closed the book to read the front cover aloud, "Ancient Magical Artifacts and Their Magical Proprieties." Keeping his hand on the page to mark the spot, he opened the book and read the passage again.

Passing the book back to Rose he said, "This sounds dangerous to me. We don't know that whoever wrote this book knew what they were talking about - it could all be conjecture. One of the founders might have written this spell and they might not have." He wanted to convince her very badly NOT to use that spell. He knew something about this spell that she didn't. It was similar to a spell written by Helga Hufflepuff, which was in the book that his father took back in time with him, but Rose couldn't possible wield the power of that spell.

"It's worth a try," she begged. "Will you help me?"

"No." Scorpius shook his head and stood. "I won't help. I'm sorry. You're on your own." He walked out of the room, then down a long, narrow hallway to the front door and finally he went outside for some fresh air. He hoped to convince her to wait, thinking she wouldn't try the spell on her own. He forgot that once he was outside that the house would disappear! He turned back quickly and the house was already gone.

That was when he decided that he needed help. He didn't know whether to go to his grandfather or to Harry Potter, but finally decided on the latter.

Rose cursed the day she ever met a Malfoy, then stood from the table and said the incantation that she hoped would bring her mother and even Scorpius' father home.

She read the passage before the incantation aloud:

"If you had a chance to go back in time, to right a wrong, change an injustice, or stop a sin, would you? Or would you stand idly by, while others sat in judgment, calmly casting the first stone?"

"This has to be the right spell," she said to herself. "It has to be." She read the rest of the passage. It mentioned that the ultimate sacrifice was giving your own life to save another person's life. Rose thought about that for a moment. She would gladly give her life to save her mother's life. Her mother was needed more than she was. Hugo was still young, and he needed his mother, and likewise, her mother was about to have a new baby any day now. That child deserved a chance to live.

She didn't give two figs if Draco's father lived or died, but she would give her life for her mother's life.

Therefore, Rose said the last part of the incantation. Then she felt intense pain. Pain of the like she had never experienced. She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't, because they were full of tears. She heard screaming, and realized the screams came from her. When the pain finally lifted and she opened her eyes, she realized that she was inside a large, stately Manor, but nothing was familiar.

She looked around from her place on the ground, as new tears formed in her eyes, and confusion filled her senses. What had happened? A mad woman's cackle filled the air around her. The same woman stood above her, calling her a Mudblood. Then the crazed witch lifted her wand, pointed it at her, and the pain started again. Rose continued to scream. In the back of her mind, she realized she was in her mother's body.

It had worked. She gave her life for her mother. Her mother was free.

Then suddenly, the pain just stopped and again, she slipped into a deep, dark abyss. There was no way to go back now, and no way to go forward, either. There was nothing to do but close her eyes and fade into nothingness. She felt enveloped in a fog, but she did nothing to embrace it, nothing to enhance it, she simply let it totally overcome her until she felt herself slipping away.

Slipping into nothingness, numbness filled each of her senses. An intense flash of uncertainly followed the numbness. Was this what it was like to be dead? Void of feeling, void of pain, yet full of awareness? As that thought crowded her brain, she heard a voice say, "You must not die. I won't let you die." So this wasn't quite death after all.

Somehow, she thought the voice sounded like Scorpius. Scorpius was yelling at her to come back. He was crying, holding her, telling her not to die. She wanted to scream at him that she wasn't dead. She wasn't dead! _"I'm not dead,"_ she tried to say, but words wouldn't form.

No sound came.

"I won't let you die," the voice said again. "Come back to me, come back. It's not your time." The funny thing was, she really thought it was her time; she wasn't afraid and she was ready to die if she had to, so that someone else could live.

She heard more voices now. Uncle Harry, her father. She didn't hear her mother. Was her mother safe? Perhaps it didn't work after all. It had to have worked. Please, where was her mother. This couldn't have all been in vain.

She was not above giving her life to save another, especially for someone whom she loved. Therefore, she ignored the voice that called to her, beckoning her to stay, telling her that she was not yet dead. The truth was that she died a long time ago, when she gave up on life. It was no real sacrifice to die for someone else. To give your life for your fellow man was the greatest act of love.

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_A/N - Chapter 16 is done and beta'd and will be posted soon. This story is almost done, with only an epilogue to follow, though chapter 16 is very long and I might make it two chapters. Thanks! I know it took a long time to update this story!_


	16. Chapter 16

All characters belong to JK Rowling

**Chapter 16 – History Repeating Itself**

After Draco left, the events that lent themselves to be relived did so in a haphazard, quick, and messy manner. Hermione had almost forgotten how terrible that time had been.

Ron came back to the Forest of Dean and he and Harry found the Sword of Gryffindor, destroyed the locket, then the Snatchers caught them and they were taken to Malfoy Manor. The last thing Hermione remembered was lying on the floor of the large drawing room, reliving the feel of the Cruciatus Curse coursing through every fiber of her being, and then it all suddenly stopped. In the blink of an eye, she was back in her living room.

Alone, disoriented and afraid, she looked down and saw that she was still pregnant. All the same, she was home. Where was Draco? Was she the only one that had made it back? Was Draco stuck in the past? She recalled him being at Malfoy Manor as the torture began and then she hadn't seen him again.

Feeling anxious and confused she rushed throughout her house, looking for anyone or anything she could find to tell her what day it was, and to see how much time had passed. She finally turned on the telly, quickly turning it to the news. Yes, the same amount of time had passed in real life as had passed while they had been gone.

Suddenly, she doubled over in intense pain. "Oh no, not now." She was going into labour! Not now! She needed to find Draco. The last time she had spoken to him she told him that she hated him and that she didn't care if he made it back home or not, but that wasn't true! She also desperately needed to find Ron, but mostly she needed to see Rose, and Hugo! She needed to tell everyone that she was home!

She walked slowly over to the fireplace, holding her lower abdomen. Opening the Floo, she called out Harry's name. She got no answer. Next, she called out Ron's name, receiving no answer again, when she thought of one other name she could call. In exasperation, she called out Draco's name.

With that, she got a reply. "Granger?"

"Draco?"

"Merlin, Granger, I was so worried. One second we were in the past, at Malfoy Manor, and the next second we weren't. Are you alright?"

"Yes, are you?"

"Yes. How did we get home?"

"I was hoping you knew," she winced, then cried out again, dropping to her knees. "Where are you?"

Hearing the distress in her voice, he asked, "I'm at my house, but I'm back in our time, instead of the past, and for some reason, no one in my family is here. Bloody hell, woman, what's wrong with you?"

"I think I'm in labor. I can't find anyone here either. No one's home."

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed again. "Where is everyone? My father's gone, as is my mother. I've found an Owl from the school, addressed to my parents, saying that Scorpius left school." There was a pause and then he said, "I'm coming through. Open the Floo."

She did as requested and he appeared in her living room a moment later, dressed as she saw him the day they left, weeks ago. She was still on the floor, on her knees, holding her stomach with both hands.

"Let's get you to St. Mungo's and then I'll find everyone," he promised.

"No, I have to know where everyone is first," she argued. Then she said, "You were going to let me be tortured again!" She slapped his hands away from her arm.

He slapped her hands in return and spat, "Stop hitting me, you bully! I'm not above hitting a woman in labour, and I'm sorry, okay! I didn't want to do that, and I can't change it now! Frankly, I wouldn't have minded prolonging our time as Lily and Sirius, but you seemed so set against that, so there was no other way I could think of for us to get home, but to finish living out the last path of the stone!"

"I didn't want to tell you this at the time, because I was willing to take all the blame, but it's actually your fault. So, if you're going to hit anyone, hit yourself!" He bent over and lifted her from the floor so that she was standing beside him.

She didn't seem to hear his accusations. Another wave of pain hit her at that moment. Cringing and clenching her teeth, she managed to ask, "How did we finally get home?"

"I got home because you did. Someone who loved you very much, from this side, brought you back," he admitted. "I'm tied to you in this mess. You're the one responsible for taking us back, not me, because you said the spell to take us back in the first place AND you were the possessor of the stone at the time...so it would've been up to you, or someone you loved, to get us home. I tried to explain that to you in The Forest of Dean."

She had his hand in hers, but at that proclamation, she squeezed his hand so tightly that he grimaced in pain. "Why didn't you ever tell me that?" she shrieked.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!" he barked, pulling his fingers from her hand. He rubbed the fingers of his left hand with his right. "I think I said I just did in the Forest of Dean, you crazy bint! You acted as if you were the expert on the bloody thing in the first place, so I thought you knew that. Also, I was trying to save you from the pain, unbelievably. I knew the only way home was to either relive the three last times the stone was used, which would include your torture at the Manor, or someone tied to you would have to bring you home."

"Draco!" she screamed, because she was angry with him, and because another pain hit her. She pinched his arm hard and then said, "You know I didn't know all the variances about the magic of The Stone! I take it that's the previously unknown 'third' equation in the little…oww…power…ouch…of…oh…three…thingy!" She began to breathe hard as she gripped his forearm with her hand.

"Yes, that was the unknown part of the power of three," Draco admitted, his hand rubbing circles on her swollen belly, "and to be truthful, I knew you didn't know all of these things. I knew the moment you knew it was up to you to bring us back, you'd take all the blame, and I couldn't have that. I decided that I'd rather you hated me, than for you to blame yourself. I'd rather have you blame me for us being there, than take the blame on yourself."

"But it was your idea to go back in time!" she accused poking his chest, her labour pains forgotten for a moment.

"No, it wasn't!" he argued. She glared at him with such a menacing look that he finally said, "Fine! I tried to persuade you to go back, with all that shite about your husband and my wife, which by the way, was true, and not a lie, but which I didn't really care too awful much about. You're the one that thought it would be _fun_ to go back!"

She was about to protest, but before she could, he reminded her, "You asked me if I wanted to see the path the stone took or not, and then you opened the book to the incantation, you took my hand, even while I told you that we might get stuck in there. I reminded you that you were very pregnant, and I even said I didn't know nothin' about birthin' no babies, and you said we'd be fine! You even called me a silly goose!"

She moved over to her couch and sat down, as what he said sunk in and realization hit her like a splash of cold water. "It _was_ my idea to go back! You're right. You're not smart enough to compel me to do something I didn't want to do, not really. I wanted to go back, and I knew the dangers. I wasn't even concerned with how we would come back."

She leaned back and he sat beside her, turning slightly to face her. "I didn't give any thought to how or when we would return," she admitted, turning her head to face him, "because I didn't care. I was lonely, sad, and upset that my husband was cheating on me. I wanted to be with you, because even though I'd only spent fifteen minutes with you, I felt more alive and challenged in those fifteen minutes than I'd felt in a long time. So without regards to how we'd return, I grabbed your hand and went back in time."

She started to cry, blabbering, "I'm as selfish as you are. That cuts me to the quick to admit! It's as much my fault as yours! I've been blaming you all along, when I'm equally to blame."

"Well, actually, you're a bit more to blame," he leveled, which earned him another dirty look. He patted her shoulder and added, "Let's not blame anyone, then. What's the purpose. No harm, no foul. We're home, your baby's about to be born, and no one is hurt." Just as he said that, she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, another labour pain recoiling through her.

"Come on, St. Mungo's for you, and then we'll find our families," Draco decided.

"Wait," she demanded. He stood up in front of her. "How did we get home? You said that someone had to have brought us back, because the torture session had just begun, so the last path of the stone hadn't played out yet."

"Yes," he restated, "someone you loved must have brought us back. They must have used a spell that was written by Helga Hufflepuff herself. It's an old spell, but it's dangerous, too. The person who uses it must do so without prejudice, and without agenda, and with complete love in their heart. That's a Hufflepuff safeguard, little angel that she was. They can't feel any hate or blame. It also helps if they have either The First Stone or the Black Family book in their possession, or even both, but that's rather impossible, since we had them."

Draco frowned after he said that, concluding, "Who did bring us home, and how did they accomplish it unscathed?" Draco abruptly let go of her hand and looked around. "Wait a minute," he said. Hermione continued to hold her stomach, a pained expression on her face. "The spell probably didn't work right, even though it brought us home. The person wouldn't have had the book or The First Stone. Granger, who might have had access to that spell?"

In a strangled, pained voice, she asked, "How would I know, I was in the past, skipping around in the sunshine, holding hands with you? Get me to a hospital, Malfoy!"

"Where were you that there was sunshine and skipping?" he asked sarcastically. She moaned again, and he added, "Right, right, sorry." He grabbed her hand and ushered her back toward the Floo.

Before walking through it, she asked, "Wait. Where was this book with the Hufflepuff incantation located?"

"The last time I heard, it was in the library at Grimmauld Place," Draco told her.

Hermione screamed again, but this time with a different sort of pain.

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry, Lucius, Narcissa, Ron and Scorpius gathered around the body of Rose Weasley, but no one was talking. No one had uttered a word in the last half hour. It took Scorpius almost an hour to find Harry Potter and by the time he and Harry arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Rose was already gone, her body an empty shell. To all appearances, she was dead.

Harry called his fellow Aurors to find Ron and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Scorpius fell on his knees beside her, held her hand, stroked her hair, and he remained there.

When her father arrived, Scorpius was crying freely and he didn't care when the older man told him that all Malfoys were evil, that it was his fault, and that it should be him on the floor dead, not his daughter. Frankly, he agreed with Ron Weasley. He merely continued to cry, not caring who saw him, or what they thought.

When Lucius and Narcissa arrived a short time later, they were shocked at the scene before them. On the floor was a beautiful young woman whom their grandson had often spoken fondly of, and holding her hand was the grandson they loved so much. He was beside himself, crying, rocking back and forth, saying incoherent things, blaming himself, blaming his father, blaming her father.

Ron Weasley was sitting in a chair in the corner, despondent, a cloth against his head, staunching bleeding, from where he had hit it against a fireplace, where Harry Potter had stupefied him after he dared to blame Scorpius for what had happened to Rose.

Harry Potter was barking orders to Aurors right and left, though in the deep recesses of his brain, he was trying to make sense of the senseless scene before him, and he continued to walk around the room in shock and quiet dismay. He blamed himself – after all, it was a book from Grimmauld Place that had done this to her. Likewise, she had done this to save her mother, after everyone else had done nothing. Then again, Harry Potter always blamed himself for everything.

Narcissa stood behind her grandson, her hand on his shoulder, crying silently along with him. Her heart was breaking along with his. She didn't know how much pain, sadness, and loss this beautiful, bright young man could suffer. First, born of a mother incapable of loving, and then loved by a father who selfishly disappeared, and now a best friend, possibly a girl whom he had loved, who was dead before them.

Lucius stood in the corner, his wand in his hand. He wanted to curse someone - he didn't care whom. He could easily curse Weasley for having an affair with his daughter-in-law in the first place, but really, the loss of his daughter-in-law was no real loss at all. He could easily curse Harry Potter, the sanctimonious prig, because he was supposed to be an Auror, but as far as Lucius could tell, the man had done nothing to find his son and Hermione Weasley.

Then Lucius looked at the lifeless body of the beautiful girl on the floor, and his grandson, who sat beside it. It was such a waste. A wasted life, a wasted act, a wasted….everything. He wanted to absorb his grandson's pain, and then put that pain into another, and hurt everyone who had hurt his family, tenfold.

Moreover, he wanted his son to return.

An Auror came into the room and said, "Mr. Potter, you've received an urgent Owl. Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley have been found. They're at St. Mungo's. Apparently, the Auror that was stationed at Mrs. Weasley's house found them before they Floo'd to St. Mungo's. We don't know how long they've been back, but Mrs. Weasley's in labour."

Everyone in the room turned to look at the Auror. Harry looked down at Rose. "Heaven help us. How are we going to tell Hermione about Rose?"

Scorpius leaned down, stroked her hair back and whispered in her ear, "It worked, Rose Red. You brought them home. It worked." He kissed her cheek and then stood up and ran from the room.

Harry ordered the Aurors to guard the room, and not to let anyone enter, and then everyone else left to go to St. Mungo's.

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_A/N - The next chapter ties everything together from the 'starts' of the previous chapters, and then after that, there will only be an epilogue, to say goodbye and The End, as well as Thank you...but not yet._


	17. Chapter 17

All characters belong to JK Rowling

**Chapter 17 – And When the Day is Done**

Later that day, Hermione Granger Weasley gave birth to another girl and named her Violet Elizabeth Weasley. When she heard what happened to Rose she broke down and cried for six hours straight. She refused to see anyone, especially Ron, or even Harry. She especially didn't want to see Draco, but he had already disappeared, so it was a moot point.

Losing her child was a pain so deep that Hermione didn't think she would ever feel whole again. If she had lost her right arm, it wouldn't have hurt as much. Every pore, every fiber of her being, hurt with a pain ten times worse than the Crucio curse. She would never be whole again. She would never be happy again. She would go on living for her other children, but a part of her died when Rose's life ceased.

Before a funeral could be arranged for Rose, Harry Potter questioned everyone involved, and after speaking to Hermione and Scorpius, Harry Potter believed that Rose wasn't dead, but in a sort of limbo. Scorpius Malfoy told him he believed she was left there from the incantation that she used to bring their parents home. Furthermore, he claimed he could bring Rose back, but he needed The First Stone and the Black Family book to do so, and he didn't possess either.

Hermione had the amulet and his father had the book.

Hermione wouldn't let anyone have The First Stone, because she claimed she needed it, even when Harry asked her to give it to the younger Malfoy. Though her pain from losing her daughter was still acute, she explained to Harry that she was of the same mindset as Scorpius, that being that Rose might not be dead, but in a indeterminate state, still, she knew she couldn't let this young man make the same sacrifice that her daughter made. If anyone made a sacrifice to bring her daughter back, it should be her, because the blame of her daughter's 'death' rested on her and Draco Malfoy's head.

Draco agreed with her, hence the reason he left. Fear that his son might ask for the book so that he would try the same spell Rose had used to bring him and Hermione back lingered heavily on his mind. For that was the basic use of The First Stone and Draco's truest fear – That Scorpius would sacrifice himself to bring Rose back, the woman he loved.

He didn't want his son to meet the same fate, so he left, taking the book with him. Draco also left because he couldn't face Hermione. He knew she blamed him still and rightly so, as he blamed himself. He wasn't sure he could ever face her again.

Harry and Hermione believed Scorpius' story, consequently they didn't have Rose embalmed, as was Muggle tradition, instead they had her entombed in a glass coffin, perfectly preserved, as if she were sleeping. Then Hermione, Harry and even Scorpius and Lucius spent every waking hour for almost the next year trying to find Draco Malfoy, so they could find that book.

Almost a year after Rose's 'death', Hermione walked out of a little church, after speaking with the priest to find out if he had seen a man who fit Draco Malfoy's description, when she saw her ex-husband spying on her. She was tired of his games. He didn't approve of her investigation of Draco, but she didn't care.

If she had credible evidence that someone, somewhere had seen Draco Malfoy, she was going to follow that evidence, and find him. He was the sole possessor of that book and she needed it to find a spell in it that she could bring her daughter back. Little did Draco know that she no longer blamed him. She just wanted her daughter and her life back. She told the priest that Draco was dangerous and not be trusted, but that wasn't true. She didn't believed that. She merely told the man that, hoping that it would spur him to call her if he saw Draco again.

It was when she was leaving the church that she felt someone watching her from the woods. At first, she thought it might be Draco. She pulled out her wand and spun around to face her 'enemy'.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, her wand pointed under the man's chin.

"I have to ask you the same thing," he said. It was her ex-husband, Ron. He knocked her wand arm away from him and then grabbed the end of it in one quick swipe. "You know you're going against a direct order from the Ministry coming here, don't you?"

She smiled. "When do you care about orders from the Ministry?"

"I could give a shite about the Ministry," he laughed. "But I have a vested interest in you, Hermione."

"Not anymore, Ron," she said. "Please, leave me alone." She wrenched her wand from his tight grip and started out of the copse of trees. He spun her around.

"I can't leave you alone. I know what you're suffering. I'm suffering, too, Hermione. You aren't the only one who lost someone. I'm in pain, too!" he spat.

It took her several moments to compose herself, and then she said, "If I could erase your pain, I would. If I could erase your memory, I'd do that, too. If I could turn back time…" and she stopped. That one phrase…turning back time, sparked a memory. "Wait. I can turn back time. That's it, Ron. Why didn't I think of it before? That's it."

"What are you blabbering about?" he asked, confused.

"I have one chance to make this right. I can turn back time. I go can back and right my wrongs. Stop my sins." Why didn't she think of this before! She didn't need the book! It was never about the book! She had the amulet. All she needed was The First Stone! She already knew the incantation to go back in time. She would use the other spell, the one about 'righting wrongs' and 'those without sins!' She had been such a fool not to consider this the first time.

She would use the same spell that her daughter had used, but she wouldn't fail, because she had The First Stone, and Draco told her right after they returned that the spell by Helga Hufflepuff would have worked better if the person possessed the amulet, and she did! She didn't need the Black Family Book! She had the spell Rose used to bring her and Draco back! And if she died in the process, she didn't care, as long as it brought Rose back!

"Sins?" Ron said with a hitch of a laugh, bringing Hermione out of her thoughts. "What sins have you ever committed, Hermione? I'm the one that broke our marriage vows! I'm the reason our daughter is dead! Seriously, what are trying to say?"

"Only this," she started softly, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, "Those without sin may cast the first stone. I want to be the one to cast the first stone, so in order to do that, I have to stop my sin. I have to go back."

And she had committed sins, just as her ex-husband had. His had been sins of the flesh, and hers had been sins of the heart. Which were worse? It wasn't up to her to judge.

"Back?" He was beginning to understand. He grabbed her wrist. "NO!" he barked. "I won't let you! What happened wasn't a sin! It wasn't a mistake! I won't let you go back and right it and I don't know how you think you're going to do it anyway!" He understood! She was going to give up her life to bring back their daughter!

She looked down at his wrist on her hand. "Let me worry about that. Let go of my wrist, Ron. I have to go." She opened the collar of her coat, and pulled out a chain that was hiding under her blouse and jumper. On the end of the chain was an amulet. Grasping it in her fist, she closed her eyes, said the silent incantation, and just like that she was gone. She was gone and her ex-husband was all alone.

She stood alone, in a void, unable to go farther, unable to go back. Clutching the ruby amulet in her hand, the choice was already made, long before she made it.

She realized she was still alive as soon as she opened her eyes and saw the bright lights above her. This was supposed to work. She gave her life so that her daughter could live, yet she was still alive. No! The First Stone didn't work. Malfoy must have lied about the magic, just as he lied about everything else. She was in her bed at her house, with Harry looking down at her. It didn't work! She failed!

She stood from the bed, pushed Harry's hands aside and started from the bedroom. Tears flowed from her eyes as she realized that she'd failed. Her daughter was still dead, she was still alive, and nothing would change that. Nothing. She took The First Stone from her neck, held it in her fist, and then threw it against the wall, where it hit hard and then fell to the ground, at the same time that she crumbled to the ground next to it. She didn't want to live in a world that didn't have Rose in it. She wouldn't. Then she remembered something…someone else had said the exact same thing one time, a long time ago. Perhaps HE could save her daughter!

Grabbing her wand, she Disapparated on the spot, leaving a confused Harry Potter and Ron Weasley behind. She went to Malfoy Manor and asked Lucius Malfoy if she could speak with Scorpius.

He told her no. She looked desperate and was about to plead, when he offered, "He's not here, Ms. Granger. Don't you know what day it is? It's been a year. A year today. He's with her. He's with your daughter, Rose."

How could she have forgotten? She found him right where his grandfather told her he would be, by her daughter's grave. Even after a year, he seemed so sad, so lost, so broken. He was so young. He was as young as Draco was when he first fell in love with her. He was the same age Draco was when he used the stone on her the first time.

She wished there was a way she could give the stone to him so that he could save HIS first love, so that he could save Rose…but how? Could he go back? The magic of the stone would only permit those who had last used the stone to go back, and even then, those who went back couldn't change things.

Perhaps it was hopeless. This young man had suffered enough. He had lost his mother, his father, and Rose. She wouldn't make him suffer more. Hermione turned to leave, but when her back was facing him, she heard him say, "Mrs. Weasley? What are you doing here?"

She turned back to him and said, "Scorpius, I have a favour to ask of you, and I also have something I need to give to you." She held out her hand. It contained The First Stone. Looking at his eager, young face she knew he was the only one who could possibly bring her daughter back.

He had waited so long – because for the magic to work, he never could have asked for the amulet, no, Hermione had to give it to him freely, as a gift. He nodded, took the stone from her hand, placed it around his neck, and then said, "I've been waiting for you to come to me for a very long time. I couldn't come to you, you see. You had to come to me. Have you ever heard of this incantation?" He paused, and then repeated a phrase his father taught him long ago:

"A Stone to be carried, deep in your heart,

Will defeat the death of any man.

For love that is pure, death cannot impart,

A future of pain and suffering.

Use it once, but not in vain,

To defeat death and its final say,

But if thou uses it once again,

The life that was saved will pass away."

"No, I've never heard that," she said, pausing slightly. "What is that?"

"It's the true incantation that's to be used with The First Stone," he revealed. "Helga Hufflepuff placed a charm on the amulet shortly after Ravenclaw gave it to her, changing the true properties of the stone. She changed the magic of the stone, so that it could also be used to save a person's true or first love, in conjunction with its other magic, when used with this incantation. Oh, Hermione, don't you know? My father used this same incantation to save you twenty-two years ago, and now I'll use it to save Rose."

Hermione threw her arms around the young man and hugged him tightly, overwhelmed with a deluge of emotions. After a brief moment, and a few tears, Scorpius and Hermione went to the large mausoleum that lay behind the gravestone of her daughter. In unspoken accord, they used magic to pull back the heavy stone door. There, in a jewel and glass encrusted coffin, in the middle of the tomb, on a stone slab, they found the body of Rose Beatrice Weasley. Though she had been 'deceased' a year, she looked as lovely as she had on the day she died. In fact, she didn't look dead, but seemed to be merely sleeping.

It hurt Hermione to see her like this and she began to cry. Placing her hand on top of the glass tomb she apologized profusely to her daughter, repeating her past mistakes and sins, her regrets and sorrows, tears falling as she did.

However, Scorpius knew he didn't have time for tears. He too placed a hand on the top of the multi-coloured, glass coffin and said the Helga Hufflepuff spell that his father taught him years ago, adding the last line from a book that was handed down from generation to generation, and which was only revealed to members of the Black family:

"And then those of you without sin shall cast the first stone. Those of you whose love is pure of heart, and who shall give your life selflessly, shall have your love's life brought back to you . . . ."

Before he could finish the invocation, a scraping noise could be heard at the mouth of the mausoleum, as if someone was opening the heavy oak doors and the bottoms were scuffing across the stone floors. Hermione and Scorpius turned toward the sound to watch and wait.

"STOP!" a man begged. "You can't do this! I won't let you do this!" It was Draco Malfoy. No one had seen him in a year and he looked worse for wear. Thin, haggard, and emanating sadness, he reached for the black book, which dangled from his son's hands, and swatted it so that it landed on the floor.

"I don't even know how you found the Black Family book, Scorpius, because I thought I had hidden it well at Malfoy Manor, but apparently I didn't hide it well enough! It doesn't matter, because I won't let you do this." Draco kicked the book along the stone slab floor, and he tried to grab the amulet from around his son's neck, though Scorpius moved out of the way. "I won't let you die for her!"

Hermione walked up to him, slapped him hard across the face, leaving a handprint on his cheek. She seethed, "No, but you'll let my daughter die to bring us home!"

"She didn't have to die!" he moaned. "We would have come home eventually! And I've tried, and tried to bring her back! Don't you think I've tried! Do you hate me so much, Granger, that you'd take my son's life in exchange for your daughter's life? What good would that do? They'd both be dead, and to what purpose!"

"It's not like that, Father," Scorpius began, leaning down to pick up the black book. As he stood, his hand went to the heavy amulet that felt like a lead weight around his neck.

Hermione walked between father and son and said, "I didn't ask him to do this, and I wouldn't do it if I thought he'd die! I'm not heartless! He said it would bring her back. And she's not really gone, but merely in a form of stasis! I know that much is true, and he said he could bring her back! All I had to do was give him the stone, freely! He already had the book!" She pulled on Draco's shirt and begged, "Let him try! Please, let him try, Draco! It's my only hope! He's an adult now, and can choose for himself, and he wants to do this. Let him try!"

"NO! It won't work! She's gone, Hermione! I'm sorry, and you can kill me as retribution, but Rose is dead and gone!"

Scorpius ignored the pair. He knew his father was wrong. It had to be him. He was the only one who could bring Rose back. He should have been the one to bring their parents back to the present a year ago, not her, because she did it for the wrong reasons, and she had hate in her heart for his father, but Rose wouldn't listen to reason back then, just as Hermione and his father wouldn't listen to reason today.

When his father tried to right all the wrongs, he too did it for the wrong reasons, for he did it out of guilt and remorse, instead of out of love and purity.

When Hermione tried to bring Rose back, she failed as well, because she had too much anger and regret in her heart…anger at Draco, at Ron, at the world, at herself, even at Rose.

It had to be him. He was the only one doing it for selfless reasons, and the only one doing it out of love. It was the last self-guard placed on the stone by Gryffindor and his 'power of three' curse, and it was also the true magic of the stone.

He started the incantation again.

Scorpius finished the incantation as Hermione and his father continued to bicker. "And then those of you without sin shall cast the first stone. Those of you whose love is pure of heart, and who shall give your life selflessly, shall have your love's life brought back to you." And in those lines held the key as to why the same incantation didn't work for anyone else – no one else possessed a love that was selfless or pure of heart.

Rose tried to bring their parents back to their time, but she had bitterness and anger toward Scorpius' father. That was the reason the spell only partially worked for her. It brought their parents back, but at a terrible price to herself, leaving her in a sort of limbo between timelines. She appeared dead, though she was alive. Her sacrifice was not given selflessly.

When Hermione tried to use the power of The First Stone to right what she thought was a wrong – that being her daughter's death – she was acting selflessly and out of love. She was willing to erase the magic that the stone held over her when Draco used it to save her life all those years ago, in exchange for her daughter's life, nonetheless, it didn't work for her because a life would have had to be given for a life and Rose wasn't dead.

Unknown to Scorpius and Hermione, when Draco ran away, he too tried everything in his power to bring Hermione's daughter back. He knew his son loved her, equally, he knew that Granger would never forgive him for his duplicity. When nothing he did worked, he could no longer face the pain and he left the magical world behind.

Scorpius knew all along that HE had to be the one to return Rose to the world of the living, and mend their fractured families. He was merely waiting for Hermione to show up with the amulet, for he needed both The First Stone and the book to accomplish his task and to fulfill the third equation in the magical 'power of three', which was the very incantation he had just uttered.

Hermione and Draco both turned toward him right as he said the last line. "And the sins of the father, and the sins of the mother, shall be washed away, and time will erase the burdens of the past." He leaned over the glass structure that housed the body of the woman he loved. He placed his hand on the glass and whispered, "If you could turn back time, Rose Red, would you?"

Someone called her name repeatedly. This person watched her for a long time. He thought she was so quiet that he wondered if she was even breathing, though he knew the spell had worked. What was a normal respiration rate? At last, her chest heaved and her arm moved. She was alive. It had worked! The First Stone had worked.

A bright light filled the dark, cavernous mausoleum, as the glass-covered coffin containing the body of Rose Weasley shattered into a million tiny shards of glass. Then suddenly, Scorpius disappeared in a brilliant miasma of light. Hermione screamed. Draco dropped to his knees.

Then Rose Weasley sat up and asked, "Where's Scorpius?"

_(An Epilogue to follow and then this story will be done and I'll concentrate on "Envy - Part 2 of the Seven Deadly Death Eater Tales" and "A Storm in a Teacup". Thank You!)_


	18. Chapter 18

All characters belong to JKRowling

**Chapter 18 – Epilogue – A Price to Pay at a Terrible Cost**

Hermione couldn't tell exactly what it was about the painting before her, but something was definitely wrong with it. She tilted it slightly toward the left, then moved the upper right hand corner down again, but still couldn't get it to appear straight. Perhaps her eyes were crooked. She should move this painting from the foyer altogether and place it in her library. Perhaps she would remove it from her house, instead. Draco once admired it, a long time ago; perhaps she would give it to him. She was about to remove it from the wall when she felt a small hand reached up and tug at the hem of her jeans.

Looking down into the eyes of her 13-month-old daughter, Violet, she smiled and picked the brown-curly haired, chubby baby up from the floor and propped her on her hip. "Do you like this painting, Vi?" Hermione asked the baby. "Did you know that Mummy painted it? It's just a hobby, but someone once told me that I was quite good and I've been thinking of taking it up again."

The baby made a series of gurgles and other noises as a response. Hermione kissed her plump cheek, inhaling in the fresh scent of everything goodness and light along with that distinct baby smell, and asked, "Is that a yes or a no? Is it good or not?"

Sounds of footsteps on the stairs behind the pair made Hermione turn around. "Rose," she started, upon seeing her grown daughter descending the stairs in a mad dash, "You really must hurry, or you'll be late for the train."

"I can't find my tie, Mum," Rose explained, dashing by in a whirl.

Hermione lifted a red and gold tie from the balustrade at the end of the long stairwell and called out again, "Rose?"

Rose darted back down the hall, saw her tie in her mother's hand, laughed, and ran back toward her. "Thanks, Mum." Rose took the tie from Hermione's hand, the wisps of material sliding lightly through the older woman's fingers. Rose grabbed the baby's hand and kissed it before she disappeared back up the stairs.

"Rose!" Hermione yelled in desperation for the third time. "You don't have time to go back up the stairs! You're going to be seriously late! This special train for Hogwarts is just for you, you know!"

Hugo walked in the front door (leaving it open), looking as frustrated as Hermione felt. "Isn't she ready yet?" He took the baby from his mother and said, "I like you, baby Vi-Vi, so much better than I like Rose!"

"That's a horrible thing to say, and you don't mean it, Hugo," his mother scolded. Rose had only been returned to them for a little less than a month, yet her younger brother acted almost as if she'd been away for only a day, instead of a year, although Hermione knew that was all a ruse. She knew Hugo was overjoyed to have Rose returned to them. They all were.

"Close the door, Hugo! It's November, not July. It's cold outside," his mother continued. The young man wrinkled his nose at his mother, put his little sister down on unsteady feet upon the floor of the foyer, and then ran outside, leaving the door wide open.

Hermione sat on the bottom of the stairs, watching as her toddler tottered toward the open door. She wondered which daughter would make it out the door first, her baby or her eldest. She also wondered whom she should go after first…her baby, whom had just started walking a week ago and who might fall out the open front door, or should she go upstairs after her grown daughter, who had been missing for a year, and was going to miss the train to Hogwarts if she didn't hurry.

The decision was made for her when her children's father appeared in the open doorway, scooped the baby up in his arms, keeping her safe from impending disaster. The only problem was, now who would keep Rose safe?

Ron threw the baby in the air, caught her in his arms, and laughed along with her giggles. Hermione scoffed and said, "Ronald, you might drop her! She's a baby, not a sack of flour."

"I never dropped Hugo, and I only dropped Rose once," he said lightly, bringing the baby in for a hug. Rose appeared and said, "You dropped me once?"

"Yes, only once, are you ready to go?"

She sighed. "I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?" Ron asked. "You've gone to school tons of times."

"But I've been away for a year," she said softly, hesitantly, dropping down on the steps next to her mum, "and I missed almost all of my sixth year at school, after I left to rescue Mum and Mr. Malfoy, yet the headmistress is letting me enter this year as my seventh year, as it should be, even though I've been…you know, gone."

"Dead, you mean," Ron said, insensitively. "You were sort of dead, in a way. You keep saying you left and or you were gone, but mostly you were sort of dead."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Rose frowned. "Ron, take the baby upstairs and get her ready to go," Hermione ordered.

Ron rolled his eyes right back at his ex-wife, but did as he was told.

Hermione took her daughter's hand in hers and said, "He always did have the sensitivity of a thimble." She smiled at Rose and assured her, "You don't have to go back if you don't want to go." Hermione knew she didn't want her daughter to leave again so soon after having her returned to her, but she respected her decision to go.

"No, I want to finish my education, it's just that it'll feel weird, being there without, you know, him." Rose bent her head down and clutched her arms around her knees. "What if everyone asks me about what happened, too? If they ask me where I was for a year, and what happened to Scorpius? Even my own father thinks I was dead, though I wasn't really. If I can't make him understand, how can I make others understand? I'm not sure I even understand where or what I was."

"You don't have to tell them a thing," Hermione insisted. "Remember what Uncle Harry told you about his own experiences with Voldemort. He said he never tried to make people understand what he went through. He stopped trying to justify things to other people that they just wouldn't understand anyway."

She rubbed her daughter's back with her hand, in small circles. "Darling, I know I regretted not going back and finishing my last year, and I think you'll regret not going back, and I know the term's already started this year, but you're smart and strong, and you've faced so much to get to where you are. You can do this."

Hermione leaned over and kissed Rose's cheek.

"You're right. I'm just stalling." Rose stood up and smiled down at her mother. "Are you sure you don't want to go with us to the train station?"

"I'm very sure that I don't want to go." Hermione smiled but she felt resolute. "I have something important I have to do." She stood as well and placated her daughter with, "You don't have to take the train you know. Harry could have arranged a Portkey, or you could Floo."

"I want to take the train." Rose took a deep breath and concluded, "It'll be for the last time."

Ron started down the stairs with a bundled-up Violet in one arm and a bag with nappies and toys in another and said, "And look on the bright side, Hugo and your cousins, Lily and Albus have decided to come back this weekend just so they can travel all the way back to Hogwarts with you."

Rose gave her mother a secret look, Hermione smiled, and Rose said, "Yes, hurray for that and bully for them," without any true enthusiasm. Hermione stood, and then Rose kissed her goodbye once more, grabbed her coat and bag, and without another word was out the door.

Ron held their baby out toward her mother for a kiss, and after it was given its due, said, "Well, I'll take Violet to my folk's house after I take the kids to the train."

"Alright, Ron," Hermione said softly.

"Sure you don't want to come?" he asked again. "You missed it last year, too."

Hermione merely glared at Ron for that remark. She was highly aware that she missed taking the children to the train last year, and she didn't need his obtuse observation to remind her. She missed it because she was over eight months pregnant, she was feeling blue and disjointed, she was secretly thinking of leaving her husband, and then Draco Malfoy showed up at her door only moments after Ron and the children left, to tell her that Ron was having an affair with his wife Astoria.

After that, her world turned upside down and was never the same. Draco and she used an ancient amulet called The First Stone to travel back in time. They also fell in love while there. Rose 'died' bringing them back from the past, although in theory she was merely stuck in a stasis form of sleep. Then Scorpius, Draco's son, used the same ancient amulet and brought Rose back to them, after a year.

And it seemed he did it at a terrible, terrible cost.

Of everyone involved with The First Stone, it would appear that Scorpius Malfoy paid the ultimate price. He saved the life of his first love – which was the basic magic of The First Stone. He brought her back from the dead, turned back time, gave his life for another, without sin or prejudice, but somehow, without explanation, the very moment that he did so, he disappeared into thin air.

He was there one moment and the next he was gone. He literally gave his life for hers. Rose woke up, and the first person she asked for was Scorpius, and it wasn't until she asked for him that Hermione and Draco realized he was gone.

Moreover, it seemed that he was whom she was missing today. She didn't want to go to school, finish her last year, without him. Hermione understood that, even if no one else did. She watched as Ron loaded everyone into the car and she didn't close the door until the car was a small speck at the end of the road.

Turning to face the landscape painting she contemplated earlier, which still appeared to be slightly slanted, she lifted it from the wall and decided to take it to Draco Malfoy. It was time for her to forgive, or in layman terms, it was time for those without sin to cast the first stone.

* * *

Draco Malfoy kicked an ottoman and threw a pillow halfway across the room. Shouting aloud, "What do I know about decorating?" He cursed some more and with a swish of his wand put the large parlor to his new house to rights, but grimaced as he did. He didn't really like his new house. It was large, spacious, a mansion by most standards, but somehow it was just a house. It didn't seem like a home. He remembered Hermione's house feeling like a home.

He blew out a breath and said, "No point dwelling on what I'll never have."

He had never really had a home. The Manor had never felt like a home, even when he was growing up, or even when Scorpius was there. Still, he left the Manor shortly after Hermione's daughter 'died' and then after his own son disappeared, he knew he could never go back there. There were too many painful memories associated with that house.

As soon as Hermione's daughter awoke from her yearlong 'death sleep' and asked for his son, and they saw that Scorpius was missing, Draco's heart broke in two. It shattered for his missing son, for the new pain Rose would feel, for the guilt he saw on Hermione's face, because if mirrored his own when he blamed himself for HER daughter's death.

He waited around long enough for Hermione to call the Aurors and her family. He waited for the bloody inquisition by the Ministry. He waited for his son's mother to show some sort of emotion, although she never did. Instead, she asked for money in which to disappear. Draco's father gave the woman all the money she asked for, along with a curse on the money. As soon as she touched the first knut, the first galleon, she forgot she ever had a son, a husband, or a marriage. In Draco's opinion, it was the best piece of magic his father had ever performed.

Then Draco Malfoy, along with his mother and father, went to visit Harry Potter very late one night, two weeks after his son's disappearance. The Ministry's halls were quiet, but still the sight of three former Death Eater's walking their hallowed halls caused a slight uproar, even at twenty-six minutes after midnight.

A young Auror rushed into Harry Potter's office and said, "Mr. Potter, I think we might have a problem down in the main entrance."

Harry didn't look up from this parchment, because he wasn't the least bit concerned. "What is it, Timmons?"

"Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy just entered through the Floos and the word is they're looking specifically for you," the young man said steadily.

Harry looked up and dropped his quill, glancing over at the folder on his desk. All day long he'd been finishing up with the Rose Weasley case, which was tied to the Hermione Weasley and Draco Malfoy disappearance from a year ago. That folder lay underneath. Under them all was a new folder, a case just opened, the case of the disappearance of Scorpius Malfoy.

He had already interviewed Draco and Hermione regarding Scorpius' disappearance the day he went missing, two weeks prior. The case was still open, even as the case on Rose was closing. He closed Rose's folder, opened Scorpius', and stood. Spying The First Stone Amulet on his desk, which he had taken as evidence after Scorpius disappeared, he picked it up and placed it in his pocket, even as reflexes caused him to finger his wand. He left his office to stroll out into the hallway, just as the three Malfoys were exiting the lifts on his floor.

Harry and two junior Aurors stood facing Draco Malfoy and his parents. Draco gave Harry a curt nod and said, "Potter, we need to talk." He pulled a battered, black journal out of his robe pockets and inclined his head toward Harry's office behind him.

Harry nodded in return. "Show Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy a seat in the conference room," Harry ordered the younger men as he and Draco stepped over the threshold into his office.

* * *

On the train to Hogwarts, all Rose wished for was some peace and quiet. Luckily, she got her wish shortly after the train departed.

She was sitting in a car with her younger brother and cousins, Lily and Albus, when she pulled a book from her bag and started to read, even though she couldn't concentrate because the younger children were talkative, playful, and rowdy. Wishing they would leave her in peace, although she would never tell them that, she tried to block out their never-ending chattering by concentrating on the words before her.

She didn't want to hurt their feelings by telling them to be quiet, because she knew they'd come home specifically so they could travel back to Hogwarts with her to give her moral support, but in truth, they made her more nervous. Closing the book, along with her eyes, she bunched her hands in tight fists in her lap, and was about to scream (internally) when the compartment door opened.

"Hey, Rose," said a familiar voice.

She looked up, as did her family. Everyone yelled at the same time. It was her cousin, James. She stood up and went over to hug him. "What are you doing here? Surely, you're not coming with us to Hogwarts! You graduated last spring!"

"I know, I know," he said with a smile, while ruffling the hair of his little sister. "My dad thought it would be a grand surprise if I came along to supervise the young ones during the trip."

"We don't need supervision!" Hugo protested.

Nevertheless, Rose gave her older cousin the sincerest look of gratitude he'd ever seen. He smiled in understanding and said, "Come along, young ones. I've even absconded some grand sweets in the car down the way, and I might share them with you little tossers, if you beat me at a game of exploding snaps, that is." He winked at Rose as he ushered the children out of the car.

"How did you know that I needed some peace and quiet?" she asked.

"Oh, it was my dad's idea, really it was," James admitted with a wicked smile. "I don't mind, as it got me out of Auror training for day." He leaned over and kissed Rose's cheek. "I think he has another surprise for you, too. All you have to do is sit back calmly and wait for it."

She did, even if she felt more anxious and edgy, if that were possible. Sitting back down in her seat and picking up her book, Rose exhaled a breath that she didn't even know she was holding. Finally, somehow, calmness did settle over her. Calmness she'd not felt since returning to this state of being. Placing the book on the seat beside her, she looked up at the still open car door and waited, although she didn't know for what.

* * *

Hermione walked through her quiet house, the once crooked painting tucked under her arm. She decided to give it to Draco Malfoy. She also decided to forgive him. She recalled the conversation they had regarding it over a years ago, when he said it was good, asked who painted it, she admitted she did, and he acted surprised.

Would he be even more surprised if she gave it to him today, or would the biggest surprise be seeing her after all this time? Grabbing her coat from the hall tree and tucking it under her other arm, she Disapparated away to find him. Yes, it was time.

Back at his new house, Draco tried to remember what Hermione's large Victorian home looked like. It was comfortable, inviting, everything a house should look like to make it a home. He recalled that she had a very nice landscape painting in the front foyer. He needed some artwork. Perhaps he could have her paint him something for his new home.

He should call her and ask her to come over and help him decorate, at the very least.

Or perhaps he could have her over for dinner sometime.

Or coffee.

Or tea.

Or sex. Ugh. She would probably never want to see him again. It had been over a year since they had any sort of positive contact, and the last time they'd seen each other his son had just disappeared, after bringing her daughter back. After Scorpius disappeared, he felt anguish and wanted to blame Hermione, but he couldn't. Scorpius was seventeen and he did what he did out of love, and Draco couldn't find fault in that or blame his son or Hermione for something that Draco himself did at that age.

* * *

Someone walked through the open train door and Rose stood so suddenly that she almost stumbled. The face of a person before her was someone she hadn't hoped or dared to dream she'd see here of all places, or perhaps ever again, if at all.

The man rushed to her, smiling, and with reflexes fast as lightning, he grabbed her upper arms with both hands, to keep her from falling. She looked up into his familiar grey eyes and said, "What – what are you doing here? How is this possible? You were gone! I never thought, I mean, it can't be, it just can't be."

"Why can't it be, Rose Red? Don't you believe in miracles? Don't you believe that good things happen to good people?"

With his hands still holding her arms, she lifted her hands to cradle his face. Drinking in the sight of him, she began to cry. "You were gone. You vanished. No one knew where you went! You left me, Scorpius!"

"Well you left me, Rosie, and for a much longer time. I grieved for you for a year. I had to wait for my father and your mother to come to their senses before I could get you back. You only had to wait six weeks to get me back," he said contritely, with a smile on his face.

Still crying, she pulled away from his grasp and said, "I know it's my fault. I should have listened to you. My mother told me that they were in the middle of the third path of the stone, and she was already being tortured when the spell happened to bring them back, which means they probably would have come back eventually. I didn't have to do that spell; we could have waited for the magic of the stone to wane, like you said."

Feeling overwhelmed and defeated, and slightly confused, she fell down into her abandoned seat.

Scorpius interjected, "Or they might have been stuck in the past for three years, like the power of three magic dictated. We'll never know, because so much of the magic of The First Stone is still a mystery, so you might have done the right thing, but you paid a terrible price. We all did. And you were gone for a year, Rose. It was the worst year of my life." He sat beside her, lifted her hand to his lips, kissed it gently, and added, "We all paid a terrible price when you left for that long."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

"I know," he replied just as earnestly in return, "so am I."

Moving her hand from his, she cupped his face again and asked, "But where were you for the last few weeks? You literally vanished. My mum told me that you did the spell to wake me, and when I woke up, the first words I uttered were, 'where's Scorpius' and that's when she and your dad noticed you were gone."

He frowned slightly, removing her hand from his face. "That's the thing, Rose Red. I'm not sure where I was. I might have been in the same place you were when you were gone, stuck somewhere in limbo, between living and death, in a different dimension, between times – the future, the present, and the past, but I wasn't aware of anything."

"How then…?"

"Well," he began, "there was one last safeguard on the stone, the last one from Slytherin. I think I might have mentioned to you, and I know my dad knew about it, and it was in that book given to your mum. If the stone were used as Hufflepuff ordained, truly to save someone from death…not from dying, as my dad saved your mum, but from true death, then the person casting the magic of the stone would forfeit their own life – _giving one's life to save another's_."

"However, Rosie, you weren't really dead, so neither was I, and that was Slytherin's safeguard – albeit a particularly obscure one. Slytherin's magic dictated that anyone with Slytherin's blood could bring the person who cast that magic back. That's why Tom Riddle, or Voldemort rather, wanted the stone so badly in the past. He knew of that magic."

Rose looked confused and said, "Who in this time would have Slytherin's blood? Who would have been able to save you from your fate?"

He smiled. "Your uncle, Harry Potter. Seems he still shares something with old Voldemort, and my dad was counting on that when he asked your uncle for the favor of all favors, and here I am."

"I'm so glad you're here," she said happily. "I can't imagine even going through my last year at Hogwarts without you, let alone my life without you."

"Nor I without you," he returned. Placing cautious hands upon her face, he kissed her lips softly, hesitantly, but with joy and bliss. Parting, he sat down on the bench and pulled her down beside him, keeping her hand in his. "Are you sad that we aren't having the seventh year you always dreamt of…head boy and girl, and all of that?"

"No." She took a deep breath. "We almost didn't even have this year, and we only had a small part of last year. I'm thankful for what we have, and I'm never again going to wish for something else, or try to change the past or future." Her hand went to her chest. Underneath her school robes, her tie, her white oxford, she had a heavy, ruby amulet lying heavy against her heart. Her Uncle Harry gave it to her, and told her to wear it always, as a reminder of the heavy price they all paid for love.

Turning back toward Scorpius she said, "I only hope that my mum and your dad can learn to love again. I wish they would forgive each other, be reunited, and find their happiness again, the way we found ours." She leaned her head on his shoulder.

He stroked her long, red hair, placed an arm across her shoulder and looked out the window as he said, "Something tells me that they will, Rose Red. They will."

* * *

Now that Draco had his son back, he needed to provide a solid and stable home for him, even though Scorpius was grown and would probably be leaving soon. He would spend this year finishing his education at Hogwarts (with his 'Rose Red' as he called her) but when not at school, he'd need a 'home' to come back to during holidays and the like.

After school, Scorpius would go on to Uni and then probably marry Granger's daughter. If that wasn't enough of a reason to call Granger and ask her to forgive him, than he didn't know what was. Hell, perhaps she would even fall in love with him again. With Scorpius and Rose in love, and if he and Granger fell back in love, he hoped that didn't make any of their relationships incestuous. He would think about that later.

Thinking on things now, Draco was surprised how easy it was to convince Potter to do the magic to bring Scorpius back. The stupid prick didn't even question the magic in the book, nor did he hesitate. Harry told Draco he would gladly do anything to bring Scorpius back to them, if only to shake the hand of the young man who gave them back the life of their beloved Rose.

Damn Scarhead and his effing hero complex.

Still, Potter didn't question it, think twice, or object. He did it without qualms, and for that, Draco SUPPOSED he would be forever grateful. Scorpius should be on the train about now. Draco smiled, wondering what Rose was thinking…was she happy to see his son again? Was she crying, overjoyed, ecstatic? They would get to have a happy seventh year at Hogwarts together, even if it had started late.

What he wouldn't give to have a seventh year at Hogwarts with Hermione - No. That thought filled Draco with guilt. It was thoughts such as these that got Draco into trouble in the first place…wistful AND wishful thinking. He couldn't live in the past, especially a past that never existed.

Draco sat down on his uncomfortable sofa and continued to think of Hermione. Harry had told her what he'd done to save Scorpius. She knew that Scorpius was back, and was going to join her daughter on the train. Draco had hoped that when she'd found out that Scorpius was back that she would have sought him out, but she didn't. Did that mean that she didn't still love him? Did that mean that she hadn't forgiven him for tricking her into using The First Stone? He hadn't forgiven himself yet, but that was beside the point. She'd moved on – she divorced the Ginger-boy Weasel, she had her daughter back, she had her new life…so that must mean that she didn't need Draco. She wouldn't want Draco.

Suddenly, his doorbell brought him back to reality. Firstly, he wasn't aware anyone knew where he lived. Secondly, he had extensive wards set up, so no one should be allowed to merely come up and 'ring' his bell. Thirdly, he didn't know he had a doorbell.

He had a doorbell?

Draco walked from the parlor to the large, almost cavernous foyer, his boots clicking on the black and white marble tiles. Stopping at the white, double doors, he paused, already knowing who was on the other side, just by the sudden calm that filled every pore in his body. Opening the door just a crack, he peered outside.

"What?" he asked, surprised but happy to see her.

"Nice to see you, too, Malfoy," Hermione Granger said, affecting a bored tone that was reminiscent of the same bored tone he had affected when he had visited her house so long ago. She leaned her once again slight body against the doorframe, placing her small foot with its leather, sensible brown shoe, inside the door as she did.

He laughed. Goodness, it was wonderful to see her. He raised an eyebrow in the air, as only he could, and asked, "Really, Granger, do you think I'll let you in merely because you placed your little foot in my doorway? I do have a wand you know. Actually, I probably weigh three stones more than you do. I could pick you up and throw you out if I wanted to, now what do you want?"

"Do you want to throw me out?" she asked in all seriousness.

With equal seriousness he said, "Not bloody likely."

"Then stop being an arse," she leveled, "and let me inside. It's cold out here and I have a housewarming present for you."

"Speaking of housewarming presents," he repeated, pointing his chin to the painting, which faced backwards to him, "how did you know where I lived?"

"Harry told me, when he told me what he had planned for Scorpius and the train today," she explained. "Seriously, Malfoy, it's very cold out here."

"Another moment, if you will," he said with a smile. "I might not want you to come inside. Why aren't you with the husband and kiddies yourself, Granger?"

"Must I remind you, its ex-husband, and you asked me that same thing a year ago and it led to no good," she sighed in irritation, thrusting the painting in his hands, pushing him aside, and walking into his house uninvited.

"Oh, well, do come in," he said acerbically.

He bit his lip to keep from smiling. Acting as if he couldn't remember a thing about the painting in his hand, he repeated what he said to her in her own foyer, so long ago, as it hung on the wall by the living room entry. Holding it away from his body he said, "This is good, who's the artist?"

"I am," she said proudly.

"Really? I never would have thought you'd have an artistic bone in your body."

He placed the painting on the floor and walked up to her, slowly, surely, expectantly. She waited for him anxiously, wondering what he would say. Would he apologize? Would he demand an apology? Would he ask to start anew? Would he tell her that he loved her?

Therefore, she was surprised when finally he stood only centimeters from her and instead of saying anything, not one word, he grabbed her arms and brought her chest up to his. Then with one arm coming around to cup the back of her head, pulling on her hair, he brought her face up to his, lowered his face to hers, and he kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her.

It felt as if the kiss lasted forever, but seriously, forever was a long time. When they parted, too soon (if forever was the measurement of time for this kiss) Hermione looked up to Draco, Draco looked down to Hermione, and he asked, "Will you come live here with me, with your children, and make this house a home?"

"One on condition," she said, placing her right hand up into his hair. With a smile on her face she said, "We really have to do something to impede your hair loss."

"NEED I REMIND YOU THAT I HAVE A FULL HEAD OF HAIR, GRANGER?"

THE END

* * *

Thank you for reading!


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